Hitman
by legrowl
Summary: Impending death, infuriating hunters, and general destruction. Jonnie Salas clearly did not read the fine print when she signed up to be a hunter. A little game of Catch-the-Sins puts her into play with the Winchesters. Everyone's after the same thing.S1
1. The Professor

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

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Chapter One

"JONNAY!!! GET OVER HERE. NOW!!!"

Shots rang throughout the decrepit building. On the second floor, asbestos fell from the ceiling. A piece of plaster fell right before the young girl's feet. She began to cough. She looked up through the gaping space overhead.

She checked behind her and headed for the stairwell, running. More shots ran out and the male's voice screamed. She locked her guns, and grinned.

"I'm coming Terrence! I'm coming!"

She rushed up the stairs; dust and plaster particles rose from the ground as she made her way upstairs.

The man who was possessed turned around. His black eyes fixed themselves on the armed girl. He smiled at her, baring his teeth.

The girl did not hesitate to fire, and the demon did not hesitate to move. The man behind the demon ducked, barely missing the shots. He removed his own guns, and began to fire.

His shots were precise, and skinned the demon. Her shots were wily, bringing down pieces of the already broken building. A heavy piece of plaster and brick came lose with one of the wild shots. It landed on the demon.

The man wasted no time. Within seconds a bullet had penetrated the human and killed the demon. The girl quickly spoke the words to ensure the demon's passage to hell. She looked up at her mentor. He frowned at her, fixing his glasses.

"You're getting sloppy Jonquil."

"I'll clean up in the end. It's not like this was"--

"You almost killed me."

She turned her head in shame.

Her voice gained a somber tone. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"I don't want to hear promise. I want to see results."

He handed her his guns. She followed him out of the building.

They dropped their weapons into the back of the old green pick up truck. He handed her some gloves.

"Bring the body down. I'll call the cops. There's a pay phone not too far from here."

She nodded, slipping the gloves onto her hands. The girl headed back up stairs, dreading this part of training, bringing back down the human vessel...if the body was still present. She carefully held the man's corpse from under his arms, pulling him down the stairs as gently as possible. She sat him up against the building, surveying the body for anything that was foreign to him, aside from the bullet. She sighed.

"May God rest your soul."

"Jonnie, let's go," the man spoke from the truck. The car doors unlocked.

The girl jogged up to the truck, knowing sirens would fill the air in due time.

---

Jonquil Salas flipped through various pages of the required reading text. She looked up at her mentor, Alexander Terrence. He was locating another hunt, possibly something moderate enough for Jonquil to handle.

"Do I need to know all this?"

He looked up from his research. "I wouldn't have you doing so otherwise."

She glowered.

"Tell me. . . What were you planning on majoring in next year?"

"Anthropology."

"Now, whatever you decided to do with this major, in the end, wouldn't you need the full knowledge of the subject before becoming a successful anthropologist, or whatever it is you decide to become?"

She glared at him. She hated his patronization.

"Do you plan on becoming a successful hunter?"

"Yes."

"Then you need to know more about what you're dealing with than just shooting and exorcizing demons. This reading I'm having you do is like anthropology. Of demons."

Jonquil sighed. She knew he was right and that he was aware that she was enjoying her reading. Her 'adolescent' attitude was just another ploy for gunplay.

Jonquil's mentor was well aware of his student's trigger happy disposition. And for that reason, she needed to be disciplined. He remembered his own start, two years before Jonquil's start; he was seventeen. And he too had a penchant for firearms. But that was thirty years ago. And now he knew how to hunt. Perhaps he was not the best, and hunting was not his lifelong profession like many other hunters he had met overtime, but he could do the job well. And he could teach the skills for mastery even better.

That was of course how he met his pupil. World Literature, first semester, freshman course. Her paper on reoccurring mythological themes throughout cultures spiked his interest. Over the course of the year, he began to train her, having her read old texts, and certain passages and manuscripts. By the summer, his pupil had made a decision. She was dropping out of college to pursue an education in the darker arts of hunting.

Jonquil's family would, of course, never hear about said abandonment of school.

It surprised her when he did not stop her, or pressure her to return to her scholarly duties. But perhaps that is what the clever teacher wanted all along. To create the greatest hunter, the one he could not be. However, the professor did not expect the storm that was Jonquil, for a student.

This beast would be harder to tame and transform than he had anticipated. But he could wait. Perfection takes time.

Jonquil resumed her reading in silence, and without complaint. She missed doing this type of research; in truth, there were days that she preferred to read about the demons than face them. But what good would all this information be if she could not put it into practice?

She continued to read.

"Terrence...."

"Yes?" Alexander kept his eyes on the laptop screen.

"When can I use a sword?"

The man looked up, glasses sliding down his nose slowly.

"You can't."

"It says here it is useful in defeating"--

"You must first perfect your firearm skills. Then we'll go into archery, then swords and the like. Besides, swords are archaic."

"As are bows and arrows, yet I need to learn those skills...."

He scowled.

"What? It was just a question..."

"Keep reading."

The soft mechanical buzz of the laptop echoed throughout the motel room.

"Connecticut. Vampire."

Jonquil looked up from her reading, a dubious look overwhelming her face.

"I've never ...."

"Well, you can't spend all of your training time on 'level one' demons, as you call them."

"But you said that I'm sloppy."

"And you promised that you would improve."

"And I do not go back on my word...," Jonquil muttered.

"Perhaps in the presence of immediate danger, you'll shape up."

"Well, either that or it's the death of me," Jonquil humored herself.

"We will leave at one in the morning. Sleep now. You'll need your rest."

Jonquil shut her books, and turned off the lamp. A glow of artificial light came from the bed next to hers. She closed her eyes.

The girl had never expected her life to take the turn it had. She always dreamt of adventure when she was little; playing in the park with her brother and sister, fighting dragons, chasing robbers, flying on time ships to defeat aliens from the future and monsters from the past. Never did she imagine that one day she would fight the very monsters she feared slept under her bed.

Alexander Terrence turned off his laptop. He glanced at his sleeping pupil. He hoped that she would recall how to defeat a vampire; properly. The books he made her read were not in vain. But despite her unruliness, she was very diligent in her readings; he had given her exams. The professor laughed silently to himself. He thought his days of making up exams were over. He was mistaken.


	2. Jonnie the Vampire Slayer

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read!

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Chapter Two

"Alexander! It's been such a long time."

The professor and his pupil walked up the gravel path to a pale yellow house. In the doorway, stood a woman. Her smile broadened as the professor and his pupil neared. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders, and her hazel eyes glinted in the sun.

"Hello Tabitha. It has been a while, hasn't it?" the professor commented as he reached the door way.

The women smiled again and embraced him. The pupil stood behind him, in awkward silence.

"Come in, come in."

The woman closed the door behind the pupil.

The house was small and quaint in its interior. The furnishings were made of wood worn by time and use.

Tabitha led her two visitors into the living room. They sat down in the rocking chairs.

"So, how have you been?"

"I've been good. Good. Went back to Penn State to teach. You?"

The woman nodded her head. "I've been good as well. Accounting for a local firm."

She looked at the young girl sitting next to the professor.

"And who may you be?"

The pupil cleared her throat. "I'm Jonquil Salas. I am . . . uhm . . . A student of Terrence."

The woman tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at Jonquil. She kept her stare on the woman.

"How old are you?"

"Almost twenty. By a month."

"Ah. I remember those days. Summer of '79. Ghouls in Florida. Alexander ran like a girl."

The professor reddened, looking up sharply at Tabitha. "I did not want to lose my leg."

Tabitha smirked. "If you insist. But what brings you here?"

"Vampire."

"Now that's nothing."

"Her _first_ vampire."

Tabitha looked the girl over. "_First_ vampire?"

"Yes."

"Nervous?"

"Slightly."

"You're an honest one. Good. But don't let the other hunters see that you're scared. Got it?"

Jonquil remained silent. She was uneasy around this woman.

"I'm not going to bite you. The vampire might. But I won't." Tabitha turned to the professor. "I guess you want me to help train her?"

She turned to the pupil. "I was quite the vamp slayer."

"That would be great."

Tabitha stood up. "Follow me."

Jonquil rose, and followed the woman to door beneath the staircase. They descended.

---

"And that's how it's done. Two more sessions today. You're pretty good."

Jonquil grinned. She had defeated two vampires, and was nearly killed by the first one. She took a drink from a bottle of water. She looked up at the woman from the bench.

"So you just keep vampires in your basement?"

Tabitha grinned. "On occasion, I go out hunting. Every month or so. I need to keep my skills sharp. I always bring back a vampire or two. Turn them feral. These are still relatively sane. Good for practice."

"I see that," Jonquil agreed, taking another gulp of water.

Both women looked up at the doorway. Terrence stood there, the setting sun reflection off of his glasses.

"How was it?"

"Three to one, two on self victory."

"They were level three vamps."

Alexander moved, and gave Jonquil an exasperated look.

"The girl's right. I keep my vamps feral. These weren't quite terrible. We still have two more for her to train. Bring her back in twelve hours. We'll see how it goes. Then she can go off."

"I'll start the truck." The mentor turned around and headed back into the house.

Tabitha turned her attention to the hunter in training.

"You've got yourself a good teacher."

Jonquil nodded solemnly.

"I've gotten far."

"And you haven't even started yet. Just wait until you start hunting alone."

"If he ever teaches me anything."

"I'm sure he has."

"He refuses to teach me how to wield a sword, yet he makes me read about them. That is a complete misuse of reading, an enticement."

Tabitha shook her head, grinning. _That's quite like Alex. More books than fieldwork. But you need to balance them both out. No good will come of just reading and not using your knowledge, as no good comes from having a weapon and not knowing how to use it._

A horn beeped from in front of the house.

"Be here tomorrow in the afternoon. Six."

Jonquil nodded as she stood up from the bench.

---

"How do you feel about two at time?"

"That sounds good."

"And I have no say in this?"

The professor and the accountant looked at the girl.

"Not really honey," Tabitha said.

"Besides Jonquil, this is the best training under a controlled environment."

"We'll pull you out if it becomes too dangerous."

"No. We won't. But we'll talk you through it."

Jonquil narrowed her eyes at her two trainers. "What?"

"Will I be around to save you when you're on your own? Or when I'm too old to lift a fork?"

Jonquil sighed looking away. "Alright. Gear me."

Her trainers smirked.

---

"AHHHH! Get off me!!!"

Jonquil fell hard on the floor as the feral vampire threw itself on her back. Its overgrown nails clawed into her neck, choking her. Rivulets of blood began to form as the claws dug in deeper.

The second vampire jumped in front of her, squatting to eye level. She glared at it. Its eyes rolled in pleasure as it inhaled her blood. She shuddered. It grinned.

Jonquil drew up her strength and bucked the first vampire off of her back. On her knees and one hand, she drew her pistol and shot it at the squatting vampire. It hit the sternum. It screamed. She turned, the butt of her pistol smacking into the first vampire's temple. She took its moment of disorientation as an advantage. She shot twice at it, the bullets flying into its head. Blood dripped from the wounds and a cry of anger shrieking from its partner.

Within seconds, Jonquil felt her head hit the floor, and the vampire lifting her by her neck. She was hanging off the floor, well aware that within minutes, her blood would be consumed by the vengeful monster.

Her legs swung with all their might into the chest of the vampire. It let her go, tumbling backward. She landed on the vampire. Jonquil drew her silver dagger, and tore across the vampire's jugular, blood painting her face horizontally. She shot the vampire once in the heart.

"Arghhh!"

The female vampire had pulled Jonquil's hair back. She could feel the strands being ripped from her follicles. She struggled to have the vampire release her. She drew her gun once more, and began firing at wild.

Her finger continued squeezing the trigger. Nothing.

The vampire brought Jonquil's neck up to her mouth, and sniffed where she had left the marks of her claws. Jonquil dropped her pistol on the ground, and clutched the dagger she had returned to its sheath.

She stabbed the vampire in the abdomen, and it doubled over, but for a mere second. It lurched forward, bringing Jonquil down.

The vampire's face flew at Jonquil's neck. Jonquil's face hardened and she directed her force on trying to turn the vampire on its back. She was on top now. She grabbed the vampire's hair, and continuously banged its head on the cement floor. The vampire screamed. She kept going until she saw bits of skull flying. She drew her dagger, and tore it into the vampire's chest. She removed the heart.

She threw it on the ground, and went to the other vampire, and repeated the process. The silver bullet remained in its heart. She paced the hearts together.

Jonquil took out her matchbook. She lit the match, and watched the hearts catch fire.

The door opened at the top of the weak wooden steps. Jonquil squinted, shielding her eyes as light seeped into the dark basement.

"Very unorthodox. But effective. Come up stairs."

"Not what we went over...," Alexander muttered.

Jonquil walked up to the wooden stairs, grabbing hold of the railing. She glared into the light, hoping her professor caught her distaste.


	3. The Price of Failure

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read! Thanks to Alpha of Night for reviewing!

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Chapter Three

Jonquil held the ice pack over her head, hoping to ease the swelling the impact with cement had caused. She was well aware the bruising would not subside until a few days.

She cringed as Tabitha pressed alcohol drenched cotton balls on the opened wounds on her neck.

"Stop moving. This is nothing."

"Feels like something..," Jonquil muttered. She looked up at her frowning professor.

"Why didn't you follow protocol?"

"I don't particularly favor dying."

"If you had followed protocol, perhaps you wouldn't be at such a risk."

"Well if I wasn't getting my ass kicked in a pitch black dungeon, then maybe, yeah, I might have followed protocol. But that was not the case."

Terrence pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He paced.

"I cannot believe you. I just can't."

"ME? You can't believe me? Ow," Jonquil flinched, Tabitha frowning.

"Stop moving."

Jonquil growled. She narrowed her eyes at her professor.

"I can't believe you! Who said, 'call in for assistance?' You! Lo and behold, it was also YOU who did not arrive when the time called for it!"

"You need to learn!"

"How to die?! Methods of Self Destruction 101? Thanks for the intro on vamps!"

"I don't understand how you failed to do this correctly."

"Theory and practice are two different things. In theory, it's all controlled. In practice, no one follows the rules."

"But I trained you. And you did so well yesterday...I just..."

The professor was not handling his pupil's failure well.

"I had help yesterday. I could follow the rules yesterday. Today I was alone, and my opponents were stronger than yesterday."

Terrence shook his head and walked out of the kitchen.

Jonquil sighed. Her face was stained with bruises blood and dirt. A warrior fighting out of Hell. Perhaps the eighth circle...

Tabitha stopped.

"Go take a shower. There's one upstairs. I'll bring you clothes from the truck. Towels are in the closet outside."

Jonquil rose from her seat, and made her way upstairs.

Tabitha collected her supplies. She went outside, where she knew she would find the tormented professor. He turned when he heard the door open.

"How could I fail?"

"You didn't fail Alex."

"Yes, I did. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle this. Two vampires. She couldn't even handle this..."

"Alex, you know as well as I do that things never stick to the book."

"But she could have had it . . ."

"Alex, I turned these vampires feral. Do you understand that? They weren't your run of the mill hungry vampires. They were starved and crazed. The fact that she could handle that was a feat of its own."

"I fear what will happen to her when she's on her own...She needs to be perfect."

Tabitha frowned. "What is this really about Alex?"

"Her perfection."

"Or is it your inadequacy?"

Alex frowned and glanced sharply at Tabitha. She mirrored his look.

"I only care for her safety."

"Really? Is that it? You did not opt to go in and help her when"--

"She needs to learn."

"By the book, of course..."

"Her safety is kept when she follows the rules."

"Alex, you should know that things change once you're actually out there. That is why you left, and don't try to deny it..."

"Don't you dare to tell me why I left or not. I know my reasons."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow, doubting his words.

---

The water poured down on Jonquil's bruised body. The warm water soothed her aches. She hated concrete.

Jonquil did not know what to think of her professor's outburst and of her own performance.

The pupil was confused. She was angry, angry with herself. How could she have forgotten everything she had learned? It was a controlled environment! How did she lose her power so quickly? She had failed her professor. But she was also angry with her trainer. How dare he be disappointed with her? She had killed the vampire successfully, and was that not the goal in the end? She could have died. Then what? She did the best she could, given the circumstances. And this was how she was treated when she came back from the battle?

Jonquil had never craved perfection. She was not content with mediocrity, but she knew what she wanted, and what she wanted was something that was well done. Her professor was another case. He always needed her to be on top of it all. To be perfect, with every move she made. Upon reflection, it seemed he was trying to build her into the perfect hunter. Well taught in the text, and well worn on the field. _Memorization and application_. That was his motto. Why did everything need a structure?

Jonquil remembered the day of their first hunt, a level one ghost. The day before, he had given her a test on ghosts. She had passed with a satisfactory grade. He made sure she was hunting the ghost down as the texts had prescribed. Nothing went out of order. Terrence made sure of it. Once they had successfully completed the mission, she had asked him why they needed these rules, this structure. He told her that even art had rules that made it what it was. Hunting had rules to make sure what needed to be done was done right.

The pupil understood that point. She did not, however, understand why there needed to be such rigidity to the way things were done. As long as she followed the main point, the points that paralyzed, destroyed and cast away forever what needed to be cast away forever, what was the problem?

A knock on the door disrupted Jonquil's thinking.

"It's Tabitha. I'm going to leave your clothing on the shelf."

The door opened for a minute, and within seconds, it was closed.

The pupil understood the professor's point, but what would happen once the professor was out of the picture?

---

Jonquil entered the living room with her wet hair dripping on her back. The water darkened the gray shirt she had on.

"Where's Terrence?"

"He left."

"What?"

"He said he'll be back tomorrow."

Jonquil shook her head. Terrence was having a temper tantrum. A grown man, having a fit. The girl could not believe it.

"I guess I should head back to the motel now."

"I'd wait a few hours. Alex can be stubborn."

The pupil sat herself in the rocking chair across from the accountant. Was her failure that devastating?

---

The professor was driving, and he was going fast. He was sure that he had hit a small mammal, perhaps a squirrel on his trek to the motel.

Alexander Terrence's past had finally caught up with him. The past which he had been avoiding for so long was finally at his feet.

Alexander Terrence was not a perfect hunter. He was not all that good of a hunter, if facts needed to be presented. However, he did know how to teach others how to execute moves properly. It was he who helped improve Tabitha's ability. It was he who helped improve the tactics and increase the knowledge of countless hunters since the 1970s. What was wrong now?

Terrence's green pickup pulled into the motel's parking lot.

He walked out, and headed to the door. His head was dropped in failure. Once more he had failed. He opened the door and shut it behind him. The small motel room was dark, despite the small rays of light that flitted through the Venetian blinds.

The professor silently held back tears. This was the final failure.

Terrence went to his suitcase, searching blindly for a tie. He pulled out a yellow tie with light green stitches; his favorite. The man walked to the coffee table and climbed atop it. He tied the cloth around his neck. He was done with the failures. He reached up for the light, attempting to knot the tie around the fluorescent tube.

The professor was seconds away from kicking the table under his feet. A short drop and a sudden stop, as it is said.

The door burst open and slammed shut. The professor fixed his gaze on the amorphous black cloud of smoke. His eyes widened in shock and fear.

"Don't stop on my account. As a matter of fact, allow me to help you . . ."

Alexander Terrence opened his mouth to bargain with the powerful demon, as he did once . . .

---

Young Terrence at once had realized he was alone in the woods; his comrades had taken flight to fight the lesser demons.

The powerful demon had possessed a young man. His features were twisted, dark, and the very bone that made his skull had been forced upward, ripping through his skin, warped into horns. The human's blood had dried, forming a dark crimson crust around the base of the uprooted bone.

Terrence did not believe in quitting, and failure much less, but the young man was no fool. He knew when the fight was over; this one did not even have a chance to begin. The demon cocked his head to the side, allowing his eyes to better view his prey. He licked his lips, hungry, and in full view of a meal. Terrence attempted to hold the screams of fear he had in his throat. Would he prostrate himself, submit himself to a deal with a demon?

The thought need not remain more than a second, for young Terrence had yet to live long enough.

"Please! Wait! Don't kill me! I'll make a deal with you!"

"A deal?"

"Yes, yes a deal!" Terrence was on the backs of his hands, slowly skidding away from the demon.

"Well then … Don't try to leave…"

Terrence froze.

"What do you want?"

"I want to live! Okay, let me live and you can come back when I'm done!"

The demon lifted a brow. He thought it over. A smirk slid on his face. It turned Terrence's stomach.

"I shall let you live. But when you are done, I shall comeback, and your will is mine."

Terrence shook his head vigorously. "Yes! Yes! It's a deal!"

The demon held out his hand. "Shake on it then."

Terrence took the demon's hand, and shook it, sealing the promise.

A sharp pain shot through his arm, starting from the center of his palm. The demon's dark eyes were the last thing he saw before he blacked out.


	4. 52 Pickup

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read! And thanks to my beta **capjack54**!

* * *

Chapter Four

"Can you stop rocking?"

The pupil looked up at the accountant. She shook her head and stood.

"I'm sorry**,** Tabitha. I have to leave. Terrence has never thrown a tantrum before. I mean, he's been angry before, and I've messed up pretty bad, but he never went off so upset."

Tabitha's gaze remained on the window behind Jonquil. "This isn't about you."

Jonquil looked at Tabitha. "What do you mean?"

"This is about his failures. Not your mistakes. He needs to be alone."

Jonquil grabbed the canvas duffel bag beneath the chair. She headed toward the door.

Tabitha turned, and stood. "Where are you going?"

"To the motel."

"On foot?"

"I guess so."

Tabitha sighed. Jonquil turned to face her.

"I've got something you can take. You need to bring it back**,** though."

"I will."

---

Jonquil caught her breath as she pedaled the burgundy Mongoose bike down the road. She was not aware the motel was so far from Tabitha's house. Eventually, she caught sight of the gas station, which meant that Kisko Motel would not be far behind.

The pupil continued to pedal, faster and faster, hoping she could arrive before her professor would leave her. The bike's tires swerved on the parking lot's asphalt as she stopped. She did not bother to put up the kickstand. The green pickup truck with a cab was still parked in front of the motel room. Terrence was still inside.

Jonquil ran up to the door, pausing, groping through the countless items in the duffel bag to take out the room key. She found it, immediately thrusting it into the keyhole. She pushed the door open. Her stomach lurched.

A giant black amorphous cloud stood before the professor, who was atop a coffee table, tie around his neck, tied to the lights above. The professor caught sight of his pupil, whose mouth was open in shock and confusion.

"Jonnie, lea—"

The black cloud flew across the room, knocking down the table. The professor's mouth was open wide, gasping for air, caught in a faulty hanging. The darkness dove into the man's mouth. He was choking.

The pupil's eyes widened in horror, as she stood frozen in front of what was occurring; her duffel bag fell to the floor.

The professor's body was shaking, practically in seizures, as the pressure inside his cranium increased.

A loud pop echoed throughout the room. Brain matter and tissue went flying. Jonquil felt bits of bone land on her face as the rest of Terrence's cranial remains painted her clothes and the room.

Her eyebrows wove up, and her face tensed. The dark amorphous cloud rose out from the professor's headless corpse.

She took out her gun and shot at it. The darkness took on the shape of a man, and began to laugh at her. It had a deep demonic pitch.

"Did you really think you could stop me?"

She shot at it again.

The darkness lifted her from the door way and sent her flying across the room into the wall. The crash left her on her side, vulnerable on the floor. She had nothing left to defend herself with. Not even a Bible. And she was not about to make deals with demons.

She swallowed hard. Terrence was right all along. She had been too sloppy. She was never prepared.

"Well, I guess it's the death of me." She made the sign of the cross and pulled out the rosary in her pocket, something she had not done since she left home.

The demon screamed in anger. She shrank back again. It grabbed her by the face. The ball of fear in her stomach wove tighter.

"Do you think that will save you? DO YOU?!"

She tried to move, but it held fast. She glared. It laughed at her as she continued to struggle.

"I'll let go of you, but I'll come back for your soul."

She frowned. "I will not make a deal with you."

"Oh, this is no deal, little girl. I'm making you a promise."

She struggled more, but the grip only grew tighter. Jonquil was aware that if she squirmed any more, and it held any tighter, her neck would snap. She stopped.

It smiled at her. Jonquil's face scrunched in disgust.

"There, there, little girl. Here is my promise to you, because you are not as dim as you**r** friend here. I promise to come back for your soul if you don't return to me my children."

Jonquil frowned. "No. That's technically still a deal."

"No. This is a promise. If you don't return to me my children, I'll have your soul and you. A deal would have been if I give you something and you give me something. It is a simple exchange."

"I refuse."

"Than I must make true on my promise and take you now."

It grinned and moved in closer. She turned her face.

"Okay, okay...."

"I shall return. You must have all my children."

Jonquil frowned as it let go of her. The demon had not told her its name, nor when it would return.

Jonquil looked up. "Who are your...."

The demon had disappeared. She sighed in anger and banged her head against the wall.

"Damn it!"

The pupil had lost her professor, and proved him right, all in the same day. She shook her head, confused and angry at what had just happened. She could not even recall what the severity and differences between promises and deals made with a demon were. But the pupil did recall that the book containing that explanation was on the dashboard of the truck...

Jonquil sighed and closed her eyes. The world was falling to pieces all around her. She needed to hold on tight.

She stood up and took a good look at the massacre that surrounded her. Bloody tissue and bone painted the salmon-colored walls. The paintings that decorated the wall were on the floor, as were some other articles.

"Crap." Most of the clean ups the pupil took care of were not this bloody. She needed help.

Jonquil made her way to the telephone, whose location was on the floor, between the beds. She connected it to the jack. She realized that she did not know Tabitha's number. She hoped operators were still in use.

"Operator."

"Yes, hello. Could you please connect me with Tabitha Mitchell?"

There was a pause, and then:"We have three listings for that name."

"I'm looking for Tabitha Mitchell of Greenport Road."

"Please wait while I connect you."

In the silence, Jonquil prayed that Tabitha would answer.

"Hello?"

"Tabitha? It's me, Jonnie."

The voice on the other line relaxed.

"Jonnie, what's going on? Did Alex have a meltdown or…?"

"That's why I called. I need your help."

Tabitha's voice grew tense. "What happened?"

"Can you just come over? I need help with a massive clean up."

"Is Alex okay?"

"He's uh…," Jonnie glanced at the hanging headless corpse. The tie's grip around the neck had slowly been sliding down. "He's indisposed of. I really need your help. It's a level three cleanup. Bones and blood everywhere." 

"I'll be there as soon as I can." The dial tone sounded in Jonquil's ear.

She turned around. The body was slumped, hanging in mid air. The entire room seemed like some gory scene from a B horror movie. Jonquil sighed and grabbed her duffel bag. She sat on one of the chairs, staring at her professor's body. She took a deep breath.

There was a knock on the door. Jonquil jumped. The body fell.


	5. Bienvenue Les Enfants

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read! And thanks to my beta capjack54!

* * *

Chapter Five

"The Children of Vice." The weary accountant took a drink of water. Her gaze remained on the floor. "You're after the Children of Vice."

Tabithahad arrived atthe motel room, not sure what to assume. The pupil's voice had been strained, as if under pressure. She had made sure to bring the necessary items for a heavy duty cleanup. When she opened the door, her eyes fell upon the mangled body of her friend, and the serious, blank staring face of his student. The colors around her swirled and paled. The smell of raw flesh crawled into her nostrils. The pupil stood up, a confused and worried look filling her eyes. The accountant handed her the cleaning materials and at once, they commenced to clean.

The pupil looked down at the accountant. She untied her late professor's tie from the fluorescent tube. She felt the silky fabric in her hands. The pupil kept her gaze on the tie. "How do you know?"

"A very long time ago, Alexander had made a deal with a demon. He had been living on leased time. Alex had been able to force one of the minor demons to name his assailant. It was Vice."

Jonquil's gaze turned to Tabitha. "Who is Vice?"

"It should be in one of your text books."

Jonquil glared at the woman. She needed an answer, not a direction of where to find the answer.

Tabitha sighed, staring at the thick black garbage bag containing Alexander Terrence's remains.

"Empty the bucket into the toilet. Rinse it out and stick all the supplies in it. Put it in the trunk of my car."

Jonquil silently followed the directions. When she returned, she found Tabitha staring down at the body again.

"What are we going to do with it?"

"Give him a proper burial."

"Where?"

"There's a field near my house. I have some shovels back at my place."

"We can put him in his truck."

"Don't you have things in the cab?"

"Yeah, but we can place him in my seat."

Tabitha gave Jonquil a strange look and shrugged. "If you must."

Quietly and carefully, both women lifted the heavy bag, taking extreme care not to let it fall, or any blood spill for that matter. They brought him to the truck, and delicately seated him in the passenger seat.

"Next, time, if you could, please put the kickstand on my bike. I nearly ran it over getting here." Tabitha looked at Jonquil, who was about to enter the car.

Jonquil paused and nodded. She got in the car and closed the door, gripping the steering wheel. She looked at her eyes in the mirror. They were glassy.

"God, no."

She would not tolerate a breakdown, much less at this point. That is one thing Terrence did not teach her much of. He told her to work alone, and make acquaintances rather than friends. Why? So suffering the losses would not be as painful. His advice was repression.

Jonquil gave a snort. His very advice led to his death, as far as she knew.

A loud beeping horn took Jonquil from her thoughts. She looked out the window; Tabitha's silver car moved in front of hers. Jonquil started the truck, and followed Tabitha's lead.

The ride continued in silence.

---

Jonquil came down the stairs, hair wet once more, a black shirt in place of the blood strewn grey one. Tabitha was seated in one of the rocking chairs.

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Jonquil stared at the floorboards. "I'm not sure. I need to continue my training, but more importantly, find the children of Vice."

"Sounds like a plan."

Jonquil sat her self opposite of Tabitha. "I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Can you complete my training?"

Tabitha looked up at the girl with a dubious look across her face. "No."

"Can you at least help me find the Children of Vice?"

Tabitha sighed. "No. I'm sorry, Jonquil, I really am, but I have to get back to work. Hunting isn't my profession. It's a hobby for me."

"But I'm going to die…"

"I really can't, Jonquil. I wish I could. Besides, I probably couldn't even help you with what you need to do."

Jonquil kept a stone look on her face. She spoke in a strained monotone voice. "I understand."

"Look, I know someone who could help you with both aspects of your problems. His name is John Winchester. He's a very good hunter. I don't know where he is right now, but I can give you the number of someone who might know."

Tabitha got up, and went to a desk in another room. She scribbled down a name and a number and brought back the paper to Jonquil.

"Here. He should know where he is. Or at least where you can find him."

Jonquil looked at the paper. "Thank you."

She grabbed her duffel bag and headed toward the door.

"If you ever happen to run by here again, let me know."

Jonquil nodded, and gave her a weak smile. "I will."

---

Jonquil could not understand. She wished she could sigh, but the anger in her was rising. She kept her eyes on the road ahead of her as she reached into the dashboard. Her hand groped around until she felt one of the three cassettes she had brought when she was younger. She popped it into the dusty track player; Terrence didn't play any music. J.B. Lenoir was contraband.

"Repression, repression, repression. We'll deal with this later...."

Jonquil stopped speaking to herself as the piano and guitar slowly made their way out of the speaker. Lenoir's voice soon began his lament over his lost girl.

Jonquil hummed with the saxophone. She didn't know what to do. She glanced at the paper.

The car behind her honked. Her forehead creased. She was not in the mood. Jonquil sped up.

Jonquil had to get out of Connecticut. She would drive until the sun set. Then she'd stay somewhere.

She rolled down the windows and turned up the music. The yellow tie with green stitches fluttered from the rearview mirror as she sped down the road.

---

Jonquil closed the thick maroon curtains of her motel room once she entered. She locked her door and set her duffel bag on the bed. She kept two books and Terrence's laptop with her.

She connected the laptop to an outlet and flipped open one of the books.

While driving, Jonquil realized what she had to do. Just because Terrence was gone did not mean what he taught her wasn't. She would research what she was up against, and what she had gotten into. Then, if the situation proved that unfortunate, she would give a call to Tabitha's contact.

She flipped through the first book, searching for the differences between a promise and a deal.

"Ah! Here it is…Deals… _Promises…A period of two seasons and is non-negotiable. Promisee should follow through with promise to protect livelihood. Promiser will make good __on promise_. Well, now isn't that nice?"

Jonquil closed the book and opened up the other book on demons. She went straight to V.

"Vice…_opposite of Virtue_. Aww crap."

Jonquil stopped reading. She didn't want to see what was next. But of course, she had to. She skimmed further along the page.

"_Children of Vice,_" she read the headline aloud. "_Also known as the Seven Deadly Sins. Wrath, Pride, Vanity, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, and Envy_."

She opened up her duffle bag and took out a sheet of paper, folding it and sticking it on the page.

Jonquil did not need to read further. She knew she couldn't defeat this, at least not her own, considering that she knew nothing on how to capture them. She sighed.

"_Remember Jonnie, know your enemy_…" Jonquil mocked her dead professor.

She sighed, opening the book.

Twenty minutes later, she had finished the reading the entire entry. She had no choice.

Jonquil reached for her prepaid cell phone and the paper in her pocket. She sighed and dialed the number. The phone began to ring. Jonquil's nerves were bundled in her stomach. She recalled Tabitha's words on her fear. She sucked it in.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Bobby Singer?"

"Who's asking?"

"Jonquil Salas. Tabitha Mitchell sent me."


	6. Where Guilt Leads Us

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read! And thanks to my beta capjack54! Sorry it took so long...

* * *

Chapter Six

The road to Mr. Singer's residence was longer than Jonnie had expected. She had left in the early hours of the morning, and had finally arrived in South Dakota the next day. She called Bobby Singer once more, making sure she had the correct address.

The salvage yard was coming into view as Ma Rainey's voice poured out through the speakers. Jonquil drove the car past the open gates and towers of rusted old cars. She squinted slightly as the midday sun reflected off the faded metal chassis. Trees surrounded the area. Jonquil drove a bit more, and soon reached a ramshackle house. She turned off the truck and stepped out.

The screen door let out a long creak. A middle-aged man stepped out onto the porch. His faded green cap's visor was up, and his blue flannel shirt sleeves were rolled up. A black vest over the shirt helped slim down his pot belly. His arms were crossed, and he had an apprehensive look set on his bearded face.

They both remained quiet. Jonquil shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the duffel bag on her shoulder.

"Bobby Singer?"

"Jonquil Salas?"

She nodded. He motioned for her to come in.

Jonquil followed Bobby Singer into the house. She looked around slowly, taking in the surroundings. Books were piled high across the room, some on shelves, and others on tables and chairs. Trinkets and artifacts stood atop certain piles, others on shelves. The towers of worn books reminded Jonquil of a never ending library. Books of different sizes and colors filled the room. Most of them had old bindings; some were made of faded brown leather. She kept walking into the other room. There was a table with a few books on the side, and a few empty chairs.

"Have a seat."

Jonquil sat down.

"So what was I needed for?"

"I need to find John Winchester."

He gave her a rueful smile and shook his head. "You're crap out of luck. His sons are looking for him."

Jonquil's hope was slowly fading. "Are they any good?"

"Hunters? Yeah. They're real good. But not that good."

She sighed. She could not believe she traveled out for nothing.

"Why'd you need him?"

"I need someone to help me catch something, and possibly train me."

"Well...I could help you catch something, depending on what it is. Not so much with training."

"Catching is more important."

"And what is it that you need help catching?"

"The Children of Vice."

Bobby singer narrowed his eyes at the young girl. She glanced up at him.

"What kinda trouble you in?"

"Very severe trouble."

**"**And how exactly did you get yourself into this mess?"

She sighed, reluctant to share details. "Is it necessary to explain?"

"If you wanna catch 'em right, it is."

Jonquil swallowed, rolling her eyes and craning her neck around. "A demon named Vice made me a promise. He promised to kill me if I did not return his children."

Bobby remained silent, not letting the severity of the situation appear on his face. He left the room, only to return five minutes later with a book. He flipped through it, and after what felt like an eternity, looked up at Jonquil.

"Well…You do seem to be in luck this time around. I may just have what you need to catch the little suckers."

Hope seemed to be approaching the horizon once more.

---

Bobby Singer had not seen or heard from Tabitha Mitchell in seven years. He sighed as he brought down a sealed cardboard box. He walked down the stairway contemplating the reason Tabitha would send him this mere child, and for such a dangerous task. He made his way into the room where Jonquil was staring out at a window. She looked dazed and exhausted. Her eyes quickly darted between him and the box.

"Is it in there?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

Bobby nodded and placed the box on the table. "It should be."

He took out a small razor and cut the tape. Dust slowly escaped into the air, reflecting the midday sun. The smell of antiquity followed soon after. Bobby opened the flaps. He began to remove objects covered in old newspapers. He reached the bottom of the box and pulled out a small rectangular box.

"This should be it." Jonquil's eyes brightened.

Bobby slowly unwrapped the paper. Jonquil held her breath; this moment would determine her fate.

In his hands, Bobby held it - the object of Jonquil's salvation. The wooden box was small, made out of dark wenge, with the appearance of a jewelry box. It had metal floral designs on its edges and a simple metal hook lock. It had been kept in fair condition; there were a few signs of age on it.

"Cunabula de Rectum."

Jonquil glanced up at Bobby. "The Cradle of Virtue?"

He nodded. "Goes back to Medieval Europe, during the Dark Ages."

Bobby slowly unlocked the chest. It held seven glass vials, each separated and held up by metal partitions. Jonnie studied the vials, and looked up to the cover. Some words were in engraved in Latin.

"What are the words for?"

"You familiar with the _exorciamos te_ text?"

"Of course. It's standard exorcism protocol."

Bobby shot her a look. "It's not a test. But seeing as how you're familiar, that ain't gonna work in your situation."

"Why?"

"The way you came upon the sins is not in_ standard protocol_," Bobby paused mockingly, closing the chest, "so the way you get rid of them ain't standard neither."

Jonquil struggled to contain herself. The opportunity to save herself was within her grasp.

"Do I have to shoot anything?"

And as usual, her penchant for guns and the like overshadowed the lesson she needed to learn in order to stop the madness.

"Calm down**,** kid. I still have to explain to you what you need to do."

Jonquil held her tongue, and looked up at Bobby, patiently awaiting instructions.

---

Jonquil revved up the engine of the pickup. She glanced at the glove compartment that held the wooden box that would save her. She looked out the window to Bobby.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Singer. I'll be sure to update you on my progress."

He nodded, still frowning. His arms were crossed against his chest.

"Remember what I told you. And try to stick by that order. It's the fastest way you can get it done."

Jonquil nodded and smiled. "I'll be sure to."

As Jonquil pulled out of the salvage yard, Bobby shook his head. He felt wrong sending the girl into battle so ill prepared. But it was far worse to let her sit around idly while her death loomed ever closer. Bobby Singer needed to make a call, or else he could not sleep right the rest of the night.

---

A cloud of dust rose near the wheels of the halting car. The classic car's black paint reflected the crescent moon. The two front doors opened, and boots met the ground.

Bobby Singer made his way to the front door.

"Stop walking so damn slow. Hurry up and get in here."

The two men walked up faster and entered the house.

"Took you two long enough."

The two tall men made their way to the kitchen and sat themselves down.

"So, what's the big problem you had to drag us from Nevada down here?" the shorter of the two asked.

His green eyes glanced up at Bobby in a frown, and his hand lay on the table.

The younger of the two men ran his hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. The ride here tired him. He spoke.

"Is there any news about our dad?"

Bobby shook his head. "No."

"Then why'd you call us here?" The short haired man was growing agitated.

"Because someone else needs your help."

"Everyone needs our help! Our dad needs our help right now."

"Your dad can take care of himself for now," Bobby spoke sharply. "But right now, there's a kid who's walking right into her death as we speak."

"That's not my problem." The short haired man turned away. His companion glanced at him with a frown.

"Dean. If she needs our help, then…"

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked at Bobby grudgingly. "What is it?"

---

"I can't believe this. I can't believe we have to go save some little girl's ass just because she doesn't know what she's doing."

Dean frowned, hands tightening on the steering wheel. He could care less about the girl; his father was missing, and that was all that concerned him.

Sam shook his head. "You don't know if she might lead us to him."

Dean shot Sam a sharp look.

"Okay, maybe she won't. But she needs our help."

"Yeah. Says Bobby. We're not Batman and Robin. The girl probably doesn't even need us."

Sam remained silent. Dean turned up his classic rock music.

"What was her name again? Joan? Jon? It was a man's name." Dean shuddered.

"Jonquil," Sam replied. His eyes were on the road. Dean wasn't the only one wishing they didn't have to go to Illinois.

Dean let out a sound of contempt. His eyes fixed themselves on the road once more. His thoughts were bitter and superficial. For all the time he was wasting on the girl, she had better be something nice to look at. Or there would be hell to pay.

Sam glanced at his brother's change in expression, amused by the sly grin on his face. He sighed. Maybe if he could just save this one girl…his nightmare would be over. But he knew it could not be so. Reality bends for no one.


	7. Starvation Makes for Company

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to Z3f3rina, Alpha of Night (hope you feel better), and anyone who read! And a special thanks to my beta capjack54! Sorry it took forever--hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

Chapter Seven

A ridiculous smile plastered itself on Jonnie's face as she hummed along with Louisiana Red's _Too Poor to Die. _She turned it up.

"_I couldn't afford a coffin, embalmin' kinda high. I jumped off my death bed, cause I too poor to die_…Hahahhaa!"

Jonnie laughed along the lyrics. She was smiling, a fool's smile to be sure, as she swore her problems were solved. But of course, a small nagging voice, not different from her mentor's , reminded her she was not out of her predicament yet. She frowned.

"Damn you, Terrence." She turned up the music to spite the dead man.

She sifted though some papers she had on the dashboard; the directions to a Macomb motel were scribbled on the corner of a page. Said page also contained directions to Industry, the first town on the list. She sped up, ignoring the speed limit. It was slightly past midnight, who would be on this road?

---

Jonnie bit into an apple, shutting the truck door. She fixed the duffle bag on her shoulders.

A dilapidated wooden house stood before her, complete with white peeling paint, revealing the pale brown wood beneath it.

She walked up to the door and knocked. No answer. She knocked three more times, receiving the same result. She went back to her pick-up and opened the passenger door. She pulled out her rifle and a cartridge.

"Well, it seems we're going to have to do this the hard way…"

Jonnie locked her rifle, smiling. "Oh, what's that Terrence? I can't hear you. You'll have to speak up!"

Jonnie walked up to the house and kicked the door open. So much for subtlety…

---

"Are you sure you have the right directions?"

"Yes! Are you sure you didn't make a left before you should have?"

"Sam! It's a one way road! Where the hell was I supposed to make a left?"

"Fine! Next time, you can look up the directions." Sam crossed his arms and turned away form his brother in anger.

Both men were agitated, cranky. They had driven nonstop from Nevada to South Dakota, and now to Industry, Illinois from Macomb, for a short stop to check into a motel close by. And now, apparently, they had gone down the wrong way.

Dean muttered something as a sign came into view, welcoming them into Industry. He could not believe the stops he was pulling right now, going on without sleep or an actual meal. He hadn't even had time for a beer. He supposed, however, that the faster they were done saving the girl's life, the faster they could return to the search for their father. He sped up.

Sam was not too far from his brother. The search for their father was the priority; even as he tried to place the traumatic events that had befallen his dearest Jessica on the back burner. He had tried for some time. But the current damsel in distress only brought back the need to save _her_.

---

There was a dark green pickup truck with a black cab parked a short distance from the house.

"This must be it," Dean remarked. He glanced at the Pennsylvania license plate. A yellow tie with green stitches hung on the rearview mirror.

As he parked the car beside the pickup, something flying across the front of the house and a loud thud caught both men's attention. They stopped, as the dust cleared around the mass on the ground.

A figure with long dark brown hair picked itself up and ran toward the house. A demonic scream emanated from inside. The figure in jeans and a black t-shirt screamed back at it and shot a few rounds from the rifle she carried. It screamed more. The girl threw the rifle to the side on the porch. She opened the duffel bag she had and walked in.

"I'm guessing that was her…" Sam's thoughts of a damsel in distress nearly evaporated.

Dean frowned. "For her sake and Bobby's, that better not be her."

Dean shook his head and pulled out his usual effects before heading out the car.

"Do you think we should go in?"

"Nah. We'll wait."

Dean leaned against the car, a frown still set on his face. He would probably kill the girl before anything else would if that was her. She was taking time out of his life - valuable time.

Sam leaned against the car, following suit. He squinted periodically as the midday sun fell on his eyes.

---

Jonnie walked into the house, rubbing the dust from her eyes. She reached into her opened duffel bag and pulled out a rosary, doused in holy water, compliments of Bobby Singer.

As she moved toward the infected person, Jonnie recited the words Bobby had told her. In her mind, everything played out as he instructed. She followed the sounds of the screaming into the kitchen. A chair went flying at her. She ducked, and the person screamed again.

"Not again…."

The poor victim was a blonde young man, who was in good shape before the possession. Now, a pot belly stuck out from his grey stained sweatshirt. Various sauces had crusted around his mouth, and the kitchen was a wreck, full of empty cartons and filthy bowls.

He charged at Jonnie. She swallowed and said her prayers. Her hands squeezed the rosary and she charged at the man.

His eyes seemed to glow, and he screamed again. He tackled her and she fell beneath him. Her strength was clearly not what she had hoped it to be. He attempted to take bites out of her face, screaming.

"Arrgghhh!" Jonnie batted him, holding him away from her as best as she could.

Her eyes darted between the rosary and the overweight man on top of her. It had fallen a few inches away from her when she was tackled. She knew if she did not move her hand, she could not reach it, but if she did, the man's weight would surely crush her, if not his teeth would gnash away at her face. She took a breath and did it. The man crushed her a bit. Jonnie felt her ribs collapsing on her lungs. She gasped, eyes wide, as her hands clutched the rosary. She struggled to bring it around the man's head, she screamed when she did. He froze, locked over her. His screams echoed through the house. She slid out from underneath him.

Jonnie rushed to her duffel bag in the corner of the kitchen doorway. She pulled out the dark wenge box and opened up the vial. The man screamed, piercing her ears.

" _Gluttire_!"

The demon within the man's attention was held, but not without disgust.

"_Ex Vitium vos erant pario, per Rectum vos es reus_!"

The man threw his head back as black smoke tunneled out his mouth. The black smoke traveled directly into the vial in her hand. Jonnie quickly corked the vial and carefully placed the shaking vial into the wenge box. She locked it and sighed, placing it into her duffel bag.

Jonnie walked down the empty hall toward the doorway, catching her breath. This had nearly killed her, and she still had to finish what was started. What had she gotten herself into?

"One down, six to go…"

---

Jonnie had not taken notice of the black '67 Impala parked next to her pickup. She also failed to notice the two young men reclined against said car.

She wiped the sweat off her brow and dusted off her jeans as she picked up her rifle from the porch. She looked at the yard. She frowned.

The two men frowned back at her. She locked her rifle. The shorter of the two men crossed his arms and gave her a tired look.

"You Joan?"

"Jonquil…Jonquil," the taller one said. His shaggy hair brushed over his eyes. Jonnie moved in closer, rifle pointed at the men. No one was supposed to be around.

"Salt rounds can't do much to hurt us," said the shorter one. A smug look crossed his face.

"Who said anything about salt rounds? I've got a real gun, with real bullets, for real people."

"Look, I don't have time for this. Do you need saving or not?"

"What? Saving?" Jonnie lowered her rifle in confusion.

Dean turned to his brother. "See, Bobby was wrong. She doesn't need our help. Now let's go."

Sam grabbed his arm as he reached for the door. Dean glared at him. Jonnie stared at both men in confusion. What did he mean by saving?

"Bobby? What did he send you for? I don't need saving!"

The shorter man spoke. "See! Right from the girl herself. She's fine, now let's go."

"Dean, you know we need to—"

The man named Dean interrupted him. "We need to leave. She's got it. You've got it, right?"

Jonnie stared at the men with a frown. "Who are you?"

Dean sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated. His companion gave him a sharp look.

"We're Sam and Dean Winchester. Friends of Bobby's. He asked us to help you out."

Jonnie glared at the men. Did everyone rule her out as incompetent? Had the ghost of Terrence come to possess Bobby as well? A feeling in her gut attempted to restrain her oncoming words.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help."

Jonnie knew once she uttered the words she'd regret them. Who was she trying to fool? She was still tender for the taking. She had so much to learn…and no one to teach her. And now she had dismissed the one bit of help that came her way.

Dean glared at Sam. "See. Now let's go."

He opened the door to his car and stepped in. He turned on the ignition.

"Are you sure?" Sam looked at her with cautious eyes.

Jonnie nodded, face still set in a frown. She knew she was making a mistake, but the lack of trust placed in her only served to swell the anger she had been bottling up. Rashness was the only course of action at this point.

"Let's go, Sam!"

Sam got in the car as Jonnie's brown eyes followedthem, scowling.

---

"Well, _that_ was a waste of time."

"No, it wasn't. You know she needs our help."

"No. She said she was fine." Dean was still frowning, eyes on the road. A smirk quickly replaced the look. "But if she needs help getting out of those jeans she can—"

"Dean. She could have died."

"And I wasted time. She's not all that hot either."

"Dean, that thing threw her out of the house."

"Like that hasn't happened to any of us before."

"Bobby sent us."

"Yeah. And he sent her too."

Dean pressed the gas.

"Regardless of that, it's not fair."

"You know what's not fair, Sam? That Dad needs us, and that we can't get to him. That we wasted time here. That we can't do anything about it all. _That's_ not fair. But you know what, Sam? That's life. That's how it is."

Dean's voice was rising as he spoke. Sam's face darkened.

"You don't know the half of fair, Dean."

Dean scoffed. "This coming from the lawyer. Yeah, you're right, Sam. I don't know fair. Iwasn't privileged enough to take classes on how to realize when I was being screwed over."

Sam held his words back. He resisted strangling his brother. What gall the man had to talk to him of fairness. Given, Dean did have a rough childhood, but so had he. Dean wanted this lifestyle. Sam was more inclined to normalcy. Fairness was not a card at play in this game; his future was ripped from under him. So of course, Samuel Winchester knew nothing of fairness, not even what his books could teach him.

Dean leaned onthe gas.

"Where are we going?"

The driver of the Impala gave one a curt response and short glare through the rear view mirror.

"I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I need to piss."

---

Jonnie had watched the car drive away as she stood on the porch, rifle in hand. She picked up her duffle bag and walked over to the pickup.

"You know, Hades…I wonder if I have a stamp on my head that reads 'do not trust me to myself'. I really do. Do I look that incapable of taking care of myself? "

She hugged the rifle as she opened up the car doors. She stuck it in the passenger's seat along with the duffel bag. Closing the door, Jonnie stared out the windshield, eyes blank, and thoughts elsewhere. She banged her head on the steering wheel, and a loud honk echoed through the empty property. She sat upright, as if pulled by string on her back. She frowned, glancing at the tie.

"Enough of this. I refuse to die, Terrence. I refuse."

She took out her cell phone and called Bobby. It rang.

"Hello?"

"Bobby. It's me. Jonnie." She tried to restrain her anger.

"You did it? Got the first Sin?"

"Yes, I did. But why did you send those two boys?" Her tone had changed to one of irritation.

"To help you. Why else?"

"I don't need their help. I'm doing fine on my"—

"Listen kid," Bobby interrupted her. Anger was evident in his voice. "You ain't Wonder Woman. You're gonna get your ass kicked. You asked me for help and I'm givin' it to you. Those are John's boys. They're taking some important time off of looking for their Dad coming over here to help you. Now if you're too good for any of their help, let me know now, 'cause then you're too good for my help."

Jonnie frowned. This was not a matter of being better or not. It was a matter of trust. Terrence did not trust her. Now Bobby did not trust her. Apparently, she was a walking disaster waiting to happen. Ergo, do not leave Jonnie to her own devices; she has a knack for finding herself in less than desirable situations.

But she sighed, knowing it was of no use to her to get into an argument with Bobby.

"No Bobby. I just didn't know why you sent them. Or who they were."

"Did they give you their names?"

"Yes."

"Then how'd you miss that one?"

"It didn't register. Look. I'll call you back when I catch the other sin. Thanks. Bye."

She hung up and put the key in the ignition. She needed to find the Winchesters.


	8. A New Reign

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read! And a special thanks to my beta capjack54! So here it is---a very lengthy chapter of Hitman; thanks for waiting and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Eight

Sam tapped on the diner's black countertop. He looked up, glancing between the television screen and yesterday's baked cake. He was oblivious to the entire diner; although it helped that the diner was nearly empty. The sound of familiar footsteps rounding the corner took Sam out of his dazed state.

"Did you pay?" Dean was already in a better mood. He had decided to take the food to go; once he was done eating, he'd take a well deserved sleep.

Sam shook his head and placed a few bills on the counter, as the old woman behind the counter handed Dean a plastic bag. The two men walked out the diner and headed to the parked black car.

---

Dean had a ridiculous smile on his face, reminiscent of a child on Christmas Day. He couldn't help himself anymore.

"I'm starving. I can't wait anymore!"

He reached into the bag as he parked the car in front of his motel room. Sam watched, bemused by his brother's actions. Dean spared no time in opening the car door as he unwrapped the foil around a well deserved bacon filled burger.

"Mmm." Dean's eyes closed in bliss as he bit down on the burger. He shut the door behind him, and leaned against his car.

"God. Sam. You need to—" Dean stopped speaking when he turned around and opened his eyes, burger still in mastication.

His face fell, his mouth slightly ajar, a tomato hanging on his lips. His brows creased in anger.

There, but a few feet away, was the green pickup truck that he had seen before. And within that truck, collecting her gatherings was the girl who had wasted his time. Dean Winchester was beyond furious. Had she been following them? She had already rejected their help, a good thing for him. Why would she follow them?

Jonquil was in her car, gathering her necessary items. She put her rifle, which she had affectionately named Hades, near the pedals, and pulled out Rose, a nice 1920s pistol, a gift from Terrence, out of his antique collection. He had told her John Dillinger had once held it. She doubted that part, but it was the thought that counted. She grabbed whatever other papers were on the dashboard and stuck them into her duffel bag.

As she stepped out of her car, a door slammed loudly, a few feet away. She turned to the noise. There stood the men who she had rejected, who she most definitely needed. Jonquil did not know whether she should smile or not. Sam Winchester had just stepped out of the car, and stared at her with a surprised look. Dean, however, was less than happy to see her. On the contrary, his green eyes were bright with anger. She decided smiling was not the best option,and yet she could not contain herself at the sight of an angry man with a tomato hanging from his lips.

Dean's eyes narrowed at the approaching girl. Her wavy dark hair matched her dark brown almond eyes, surprisingly not in a frown. And her rosy lips, against her olive skin, were in a small smirk. She was pleasing to his eyes, but he could already sense the irritation she would become. His frown deepened at the prospect.

"Jonquil, right?"

Sam moved toward the approaching girl, smiling. He could feel Dean's glare burning into his back, but he could care less. Sam couldn't tell if he was happy to see the girl because of the opportunity to help her or if it was that he could spite Dean all while helping her. In the end, it was all selfish reasons.

"Yeah."

Jonquil glanced at Sam, with a meek smile. Her expression changed quickly when her eyes followed Dean. A small smirk tried to gain entry **to** her lips. The thought of _their_ rejection quickly crossed her mind. Jonquil conquered all foolish thoughts and became quite serious.

"You … uh… You have a … something." Jonquil swiped at her lips. She kept her face as serious as she could.

Dean glared at her as he raised his hand to his lips. He felt the tomato, and briskly wiped it off. Perhaps the full effect of his wrath was hindered by this small food-related problem. Dean added this embarrassment to the list of ways Jonquil Salas had ruined his life within 24 hours.

"What do you want?"

Dean spoke gruffly roughly to Jonnie. His voice was, in all context of the word, manly, deep and gruff. His frown was burning into her. She shifted under his unwelcoming gaze.

"I want to apologize, and I need to speak to you," she glanced at Sam. "Both of you."

"I think we should head inside."

Sam did not meet Dean's disapproving gaze. He walked away from the car, heading toward his room door. Jonquil glanced between the two men, hesitant to move toward Sam. Dean watched her.

Jonnie cleared her throat and glanced back at Dean. He kept a glare on her. She decided to follow Sam, who was holding the door open. She entered the small room. Sam looked out the door at Dean, who was clearly not pleased. His face was tilted up, scorned.

"Dean. Are you coming in or not?"

Dean made his way to the room, slamming the door behind him. He turned on the lamp, dumping his bag on the bed nearest to the door. His gaze softened slightly when his eyes rested on Jonnie; the girl was staring at an electrical outlet, her eyes weary and her expression pained and sad.

She felt his gaze on her and immediately her face went blank. Jonnie glanced up Dean. He cleared his throat, as he pushed his sentiments away.

"Well?" Both Dean and Jonnie turned to Sam, who was standing at the far end of the room.

Jonnie glanced at both men and began. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't …I wasn't sure of who you were, or why you were there…"

"We told you our names and that Bobby sent us. What's so confusing?"

Jonnie frowned at Dean. "I had a lot on my mind. Pardon the indiscretion."

Dean glared at her as she turned to Sam. "I would really appreciate your help."

"Well, sorry, you're too late. We're already busy."

Jonnie turned to Dean and gave him a smart smile. "I know. And I want to help you. I was actually hoping to find your father, but Bobby said you two were the only ones available so…"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Jonnie, restraining himself from kicking her out the room. Sam scoffed, and a bitter smile formed on his lips. He should have known better.

"So it doesn't really matter then…As long as you have a Winchester helping you out?"

Jonnie turned to Sam, as a softer look placed itself on her face. "No, no… I was hoping to find your father so he could train me and help me take care of something. However, Bobby explained to me that he was unavailable, and suggested you and your brother."

Sam remained silent, a hard gaze on Jonquil. She frowned and glanced at both men. Their faces were of stone.

Jonquil thought about carrying on her case, but at this point, she was far too tired to continue arguing with the Winchesters, tired of trying to convince them to help her. She shook her head and walked toward the door. Their eyes followed her.

"I apologize for taking up your time. I am leaving now. If you decide that you want to help me, or say, find out _what_ I need your help with, I am four doors to your left. I'll be gone by middaytomorrow."

Jonquil held their gaze for a moment more, opened the door and left. She had attempted to remain professional, polite, to the best of her ability, but she could not help her anger. She walked away quickly, and slammed the door to her room.

She threw her duffel bag across the room, knocking down a lamp. She pulled at her hair, and slumped down against the door. Jonquil's face was twisted in frustration.

Why could the Winchesters not understand she needed their help? They did have that much pride? Or once more, was it something else she had done? Another mistake on her part?

"What have I done now**,** Terrence? Tell me? This wasn't on any of your exams!"

Jonquil's hands caught her face. She could not see anymore, and was too tired to cry for anything. She had no time to cry for Terrence, and now, it seemed she had no time to even cry for herself.

She felt pathetic, weak. Asking others for help was not beyond her; pride was not a problemwhen her life was on the line. It was the fact that she was here, groveling on a cheap motel floor, over a death that had yet to come. Where had the trigger happy youth she once was gone? What of her desires to learn more of the other side of the world she had only begun to discover?

Terrence was no longer around to guide her. He had only told her to repress anything that would interfere with the situation at hand. He was no longer there to stop her from crying…

Jonquil shook her head, attempting to prevent any tears from escaping her eyes. She stood up dusting her pants, inhaling sharply. She walked to the bathroom and turned the shower knobs.

As Jonquil shed her clothes, she mumbled plans of escaping death itself.

---

Dean and Sam had watched Jonquil close the door behind her, and within the minute, they heard a door slam. Dean's eyes were cast on the floor, Sam's on the door. Their eyes met when they heard glass break.

"Maybe we shouldn't have"—

"What Sam? Maybe we shouldn't have what? Driven all the way over here? For nothing? Yeah."

Sam glared at his brother. "That's not what I was going to say…maybe we should have heard her out."

Dean shook his head walking over to his bed, a smile on his lips. "Hey, I didn't tell her to leave."

"Neither did I."

Dean gave him a sharp look. "Well, it doesn't matter. She's gone. She had her fit. And we can move on."

"She wanted to help us find Dad," Sam said, hoping to strike a chord in Dean.

"You're the one who got worked up over her wanting to find Dad. I just don't see how she could help us; she'd only get in the way. Besides, didn't she need our help?"

Dean did not wait for his brother's response. He took his coat off, laid down on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. He closed his eyes.

Sam stared at him. "Dean. I need to help her. We need to help her."

"You feel bad because you were a bitch to her. That doesn't mean we need to help her."

"She needs our help. She needs Dad."

Dean scoffed. "Goodnight, Sam."

"You know she does."

Dean turned his back to his brother. The conversation was over.

Admittedly, Sam realized he had been too rash with his judgment on Jonquil. But he was tired, cranky, and still hungry, surely that could suffice as a decent excuse for his rudeness. But as Sam sat down, to eat his burger, the thoughts that ran to his mind did involve his father and Jonquil.

Perhaps what he said was partially meant. Everyone always needed John Winchester. And when someone finally needed him and Dean, it was only because John Winchester was not around. This thought irritated Sam, but he pushed it aside; there were far too many reasons why he would need to help the poor girl. In silence, Sam mulled over how to convince his brother to help Jonquil, as Dean slept, pushing the 'damsel in distress' from his mind.

---

Morning light broke through the curtains of the motel room. Jonquil squinted as sunlight flitted through her lashes. She sighed, stretching, making her way up toward her belongings. She headed to the bathroom and began to brush her teeth, thoughts far from what she would have to do today. She thought of a field, as she turned the faucet to rinse her mouth. There was a knock on the door. She frowned as she continued to rinse. The knock became louder. She grunted and frowned, heading toward the door. It was too early.

Jonquil opened the door to see Sam Winchester. She narrowed her eyes. "What do _you_ want?"

"I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to"—

"Save it for later, pal. What do you want?"

Sam drew back from Jonquil, clearly not expecting this type of reaction. Then again, she was still wearing a pair of plaid colored flannel night pants, and an oversized Colts shirt. The sleep was not yet gone from her eyes.

"You said you needed our help, and you'd help us. We'll help you."

Jonquil stuck her head out of the room, looking both ways, then back at Sam.

"Where's your rancorous brother?" 

"Asleep."

Jonquil gave Sam a dubious look. "I suppose you went AWOLthen."

"He'll say yes. He'll have to."

"Says you, right?" Sam frowned at Jonquil. " Look, come back at 9:30 and I'll be much nicer to you. I'm not a morning person."

And without further notice, Jonquil closed the door in front of Sam and threw herself onto the bed.

---

"No Sam. No. Absolutely not. What the hell were you thinking?"

Dean shook his head, glaring at his brother. He stuffed last night's shirt into his duffel bag.

"We're going to help her. Why is it such a big deal?"

"Is finding Dad that unimportant to you?"

"No! It's just that"—

"Sam, we're leaving. Forget her. She'll be alright."

"Bobby sent us. You know it wouldn't be for noth"—

A knock on the door stopped Sam's reasoning with his brother. Dean glared at him.

"I'm not getting that."

The knock persisted. Sam sighed and walked over to the door. A solemn-faced Jonquil Salas met him. She smiled at him. She glanced at Dean, and the smile disappeared.

Sam let her in and closed the door behind her. Jonquil dropped her duffel bag by the door. Dean continued to pack his bags.

"You're wasting your time here."

"Can you just listen to me? I don't want to waste time. That's why I'm here."

Dean laughed. "You're wasting _our_ time. We need to find our father and you're getting in the way. You look like you can handle yourself. You don't need us."

"You're wrong. I do need you. I need your Dad more than you do."

Dean stopped, and Sam held his breath. Perhaps that was not the smartest way to go about things.

"You don't know anything. Don't you dare say something like that again."

Dean's green eyes were blazing into Jonquil. He could not believe her gall. He resisted the urge to smack her pretty little head off her shoulders.

Jonquil glared at him defiantly. He knew nothing of the situation. That was why she came. As she had gotten ready, the problem become clear to her; everything was a misunderstanding. She did not have the time to explain herself properly to the men.

"Dean Winchester, your brother wants to help me, and he doesn't even know what I need him for. You, however, are a reluctant prick, so I must therefore make clear the situation for you. If I do not recover the Seven Deadly Sins **in** the next two months, I will be dead. I require help. I am not the best hunter in the world, so I'll **take** the best help **I can get**. Now, I wanted your dad to help me, so believe me, I'm no happier to be here with you than you are with me. But Pops isn't around, so Wally and Beaver will have to do. Dig it? We've got some level 7 bitches to whip."

Dean frowned at her. "YOU'VE got some level 7 bitches to whip. WE are leaving. Now."

Dean zipped up his duffle bag and walked past her. Sam remained by the door, barricading it. He stared at his brother.

"Move, Sam."

Sam remained in front of the door."

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to help her. She needs us."

"No. Not really. Now let's go."

Sam moved. "You can leave, but I'm going with her."

Dean turned his head and frowned at his brother. "Are you stupid? Get in the car."

Jonquil cleared her throat. "It would be nice if you could join us…"

"Us? There is no 'us'. It's just you**,** because Sam is leaving with me."

Jonquil sighed. She may have to put behind her all the pride she had left, but not her dignity.

"Dean, I came back here because I need you and your brother's help. I don't know how much clearer I can make that. I'm not going to beg on my knees for your help, but I do realize that I acted out of stupidity."

"Well, the world is full of stupid people." 

"Yeah, I see that. But"—

"Besides, how are you supposed to help us, when you can barely help yourself?"

Dean gave her a doubtful look, and she glared back. Sam spoke up.

"Dean. Just help her. We'll figure out how she'll help us later."

"No."

"Don't you save other people with less reason?"

"They're helpless. You're not."

Jonquil shook her head and looked at Sam. His face displayed his torn allegiance. "Dean…"

Dean stared at his brother with a hard, angry look. Jonquil did her best to look helpless. Dean glanced at her and sighed. He walked over to Jonquil, who did her best not move back with each menacing step.

"If I'm going to help you…If _we're_ going to help you, you better get some things clear."

Jonquil nodded. "Anything."

"What I say goes."

Jonnie frowned. "Right."

"Do you want my help or not?"

Jonquil glowered at him. She had thought perhaps that this experience would be different from Terrence, but it seemed the dictatorship continued, now under the Winchester Regime. She was almost tempted to dismiss his help again. She sighed.

"Fine. What else?"

"You answer whatever I ask."

The frown deepened on Jonquil's face. "Go on."

"And try not to be a pain in my ass, okay?"

Jonquil spoke through gritted teeth. "Only if you promise to not be a pain in mine…"

He scowled at her.

---

Jonquil raised the volume of her music, hoping Howlin' Wolf could take her elsewhere.

Once more, Jonquil had fallen prey to knowledge, or the lack thereof. She drove in front of the Winchesters' black Chevy Impala. She tried to swallow her anger, to join the remorse that had been churning in her stomach for sometime now.

She had been thinking about what Dean had asked her. He was right. How was she supposed to help find John Winchester if she could barely help herself? Jonquil did not even know where he was, or why he was there. It was not like she cared for the guy—she didn't even know him. But she needed someone to teach her, and he sounded like the most competent professor for her. Now she felt even worse than before.

"Great. First I get you killed, and then I get myself in trouble. And now? I'm being a selfish little nit, out for her own. This is terrible."

Jonquil glanced at the tie, and sighed. Perhaps a death by vice was not too far from the truth.

---

Dean's eyebrows were furrowed in anger. He refused to look at his brother and the only reason his eyes were on the dark green Chevy 1500 in front of him was because the girl driving the car knew the exact directions to the next destination.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but nothing seemed to be worth saying.

"It can't be that bad."

Dean did not acknowledge the statement.

---

Eight hours into the drive, Jonquil felt her stomach grumble. She was hungry. And it was getting late. She had timed out the trek to South Carolina and figured they would arrive there the next day, circa six in the morning, if Dean and Sam agreed to it. It was already late afternoon.

She turned into the nearest exit. The car behind her followed. She continued to drive until she reached the small town. She passed two diners before she reached one that was not entirely swallowed by dust. She parked the car in the lot. The Impala followed suit. Sam stepped out the car, a serious look on his face, Dean appearing somber and irritated.

Jonquil stood before the two men and cocked her head to the door. They nodded and headed in.

They all walked into the quiet diner. The sound of the radio playing old country tunes, while a rabbit-eared television set hovered over the far end of the counter, a baseball game played between the white noise.

At the sound of the door chimes, the locals looked up from their coffees and turned over their shoulders. Dean smiled quickly, and the four men turned back to the game. A woman with over-dyed blonde hair and bright smudged pink lipstick walked up to them and grabbed three menus.

"Follow me," she said in a raspy voice. The three hunters followed the woman down to a booth in the corner. She placed the menus down in front of them.

"Coffee?"

Sam spoke. "Two. Do you want…"

Jonquil shook her head. "Orange juice please."

The woman looked at her with an irritated tired expression as she jotted the request down. She walked away.

"Looks like you can't go anywhere without pissing someone off, can you?"

Jonquil glared at Dean. "How old are you?"

"Twenty six."

"Is that so? Because you're acting like you're five. Give it a rest."

Jonquil pulled up her menu, shielding herself from Dean's glare.

Sam cleared his throat as the woman brought back the drinks. "Ready to order?"

"I'll have the bacon cheese burger deluxe."

Sam spoke as he handed the woman the menu. "Regular cheese burger deluxe please."

"And you?" The woman waited for Jonquil's request with chagrin.

"I'll have the spicy buffalo wings please."

"Of course she does…,"the woman muttered.

Dean looked up at Jonquil, surprise gracing his features. Jonquil handed the woman the menu and glanced at Dean.

"Yes?"

He shook his head smiling. Perhaps Jonquil was not as bad as she seemed. "Nothing. Nothing. It's just a pretty big meal is all."

"I'm hungry." She cocked a brow, "And I like buffalo wings."

Dean smiled and shrugged, looking away from her. Sam watched as his brother and the newcomer played a small game of pleasantries. Perhaps they would get along.

They all waited in awkward silence for their meals. Jonquil focused her gaze on the diner's linoleum floors, Sam at the ceiling, Dean at the salt and pepper shakers.

"So you like the Colts?"

Jonquil looked up at Sam. "What makes you say that?"

"Your…your shirt this morning."

She shrugged. "I like their stuff. And it's the only sport I find bearable for at least five minutes."

Dean raised a brow, glancing at Jonquil. A loud thud on the table took them away from their small talk.

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all for now. Thank you." Sam nodded to the woman, letting her walk away.

Dean bit into his burger, Sam followed suit. Dean looked up, and with food still in his mouth, spoke.

"Not gonna eat those wings, Jonnie?"

She glowered at him. "Yes. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to have a minimal mess."

Sam repressed a smile and turned to his food. "So, what are we dealing with?"

Jonquil's gaze was concentrated on the mess of buffalo wings on her plate.

"Well…What we are dealing with is…a devious little …hmm…"

"Would you stop analyzing the damn chicken and eat it?" Dean broke her concentration.

Jonquil brought her eyes up and glared at Dean. She turned to Sam.

"We are dealing with demon spawn - the spawn of Vice, to be exact."

"What?"

She turned to Dean. "The Seven_ Deadly _Sins, boy-o."

Jonquil grabbed her fork and stabbed two wings with it. "Without further adieu, we shall be making our way to Seven Oaks, South Carolina. Hunting for…"

Jonquil bit into the wings, sauce staining her lips. The other piece of chicken fell. The brothers watched her struggle with the meat. Dean snickered and Sam tried to repress a smirk.

"Hunting for Vanity. On my dashboard, I have the details of the situation."

She grunted, frowning. "Enough of this. You'll both have to excuse me for using my hands, but I'm so damn hungry…"

"What's the situation then?" Dean bit into the burger.

"Well," Jonquil grabbed the chicken, continuing to eat her wings, without any struggle. She chewed and swallowed, eyes on her plate. "It seems that in South Carolina, there have been a few strange occurrences involving beauty pageants."

Dean's face fell flat. "Like…"

"The contestants have been falling ill, having unfortunate accidents, things of that sort."

Sam cleared his throat. "Are you sure this is what you're looking for…I mean…it can just be an attention seeker, or maybe"—

"I've been looking it up since before we met. The pageant started in Myrtle Beach, went through Sumter, and now Columbia. The actual show is taking place in Seven Oaks. Now, the strange 'incidents' started towards the third elimination round, out five rounds, in Myrtle Beach. The incidents continued to occur as the pageant has followed through." 

"How are you sure though?"

Jonquil looked up at Sam. "I'm guessing you've been hunting for a while, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I haven't. But I'm sure you know when your death is after you, and it doesn't take a seasoned hunter to realize that. It's human instinct. I don't need a vision to know what I'm after."

Sam traded a knowing glance with his brother. Dean ate a fry. Jonquil sighed and drew circles in the barbeque sauce with a chicken wing. She looked up at both of the brothers.

"Can we just check it out? Please? Trust me…I'm sure you guys have gone out on less."

Dean pursed his lips and crossed his arms. "Is there anything else we can go on?"

Jonquil shrugged. "I went on the site to check out who the constants were. They're all pretty, but it seemed the prettiest ones were disqualified, or left the competition, just before the final elimination. There's about three or four girls who always remain, and always seem to be in danger of leaving. I'm pretty sure one of them is possessed by Vanity."

Sam sighed and looked at his brother. Dean kept his eyes on Jonquil, as he tried to decide whether or nor to trust her judgment.

"How long did you say you have to live?"

"Not long enough to screw this up."

Dean lifted a brow and sighed. He turned to his brother. "Check please."

Jonquil smiled. Dean smirked at her.

"You have some sauce on your face."

She smirked at him as the waitress walked towards the table. Jonquil looked up at her.

"You wouldn't happen to have any moist toilettes, by chance…?"

The waitress glared at Jonquil, who only smiled back earnestly.


	9. With All Her Vainglory

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading Hitman, and if you have read along so far, and are still here, thank you very very much! Now, long overdue, a lengthy chapter action packed with exorcisms and Winchester follies!

* * *

Chapter Nine

The dark road stretched on to Seven Oaks. The pick up truck was silent as Jonquil pulled into a quiet roadside inn on the outskirts of town. The Impala followed close behind her.

The three hunters made their way to the front desk, and headed to their rooms after receiving their keys.

As the Winchesters opened the door to their room, Jonquil paused in front of her own. She turned to them.

"Aren't we going to set up a plan for tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow," Dean curtly responded, not bothering to look at Jonquil.

"Oh."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, sorry Jonquil. We'll go over the details tomorrow morning."

"What time?"

"Six. No earlier." Dean walked into his room. Sam smiled weakly as he followed in and closed the door.

Jonquil sighed as she entered her room, locking the door behind her. She drew the faded yellow curtains and turned on the lamp by the table. She set up her work station, ready to have a plan to present to the Winchesters tomorrow.

Sam sighed as he closed the door behind him. His gaze turned to his brother, who was already changing his clothes.

"So…"

Dean shrugged. "So…."

"How are you doing?"

"What do you mean how am I doing? I'm fine." Dean's attention turned away from Sam.

"I mean, with Jonquil."

Once more he shrugged and spoke with an indifferent tone. "I'm doing fine with her. She's up to her job. Knows what she's doing. Still don't get why we're helping her, but if she needs _our_ help, who am I to say no?"

He gave his brother a sarcastic smirk. Sam returned the look.

"Besides, she's kind of cute."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. Dean smiled.

"Come on, you know she's pretty."

"You know Dean; right when I think you're taking things seriously, you ruin it."

"Nah. You ruin it Sammy. You ask too many questions."

Dean walked into the bathroom. Sam reclined in his bed.

"So where do you think Dad is right now?"

"I don't know. Sleeping? As soon as we finish this gig, we'll keep looking for him. Jonquil says she'll help us find him, whatever that means…"

Sam watched as Dean retired to his bed. He hoped that soon they could finish, that they could return to find their father. He vocalized the rest of his thoughts.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you try to get along with her?"

"Can you ask her not to be a pain in my ass?"

"She hasn't done anything to you."

"She showed up."

"But you"—

"Good night Sam."

Jonquil held onto her papers like a schoolgirl. She knocked on the Winchester's door. Anxiety filled her; she felt as if she was once more taking a test for Terrence, only this time her professors were rasher and abrasive. Well, at least one of them was.

She knocked on the door. Again.

"Dude, don't you have the"—

Jonquil's eyes rested on the man whose voice she heard from behind the door. Dean wore a towel around his waist. He frowned at her. She cleared her throat.

Jonquil had trouble meeting his eyes, and looked at the doorpost beside him. She noted the fogged mirror at the far end of the room, where the bathroom door was open. Dean smirked.

"It was past six."

He glanced at the clock, arching an eyebrow at her. "It's six o'five."

She glared at him for a moment. "Exactly. Not a minute before six. I'm actually late."

Dean gave her a resigned look. "Come in. Sit down."

Jonquil walked in, feeling odd, and intrusive, despite her smart remarks. Her eyes were trained on the door, anxiously awaiting Sam's return. Dean had walked into the bathroom, and within a few minutes of silence, he spoke.

"What are all those papers?"

"The plans and information about the case."

"Mhm. I've gotta ask you something."

Jonquil felt someone's gaze on her back. She turned to see a fully dressed Dean, arms crossed, face tilted apprehensively. She shifted.

"Yes?"

"You've got your plans, information, everything. Why do you need us?"

"I thought we went over this already."

Suddenly, the door opened. Dean glared at the figure in the door, and met Jonquil's eyes. He frowned at her. Jonquil smiled with relief at Sam.

"Hey…You're here…" He glanced at Dean.

"Yes. I am."

Sam's gaze fell on the papers she held in her lap. "Are those the plans?"

"Yes!"

"May I?"

Jonquil handed the papers to Sam while Dean watched the two with an incredulous expression.

"Not bad…"

Dean walked to Sam and peered over his shoulder. "Let me see that."

He grabbed the papers out from out Sam's hands. He flipped through the pages, skimming through the pages of stapled research.

"What is this? Miss Congeniality or something?"

"I worked on these plans all night…"

"Well, that's too bad. Toss them."

"You can't"—

"Ah ah ah! Who's in charge?"

Dean held the folder of papers over his head as Jonquil reached for them, teasing her.

"Dean…" Sam gave his brother a warning tone.

Jonquil glared Dean. She snatched the manila folder out of his hands. He looked down at her with a smug grin. Sam spoke.

"I think they're okay."

"Sam, she wants us to go undercover in a beauty pageant. I don't think so."

Jonquil crossed her arms across her chest. "Well do you have better idea?"

Dean turned and gave her a smart look. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do."

Jonquil sat beside Sam, fuming, seething in anger, as the two men drank their beers. The file was open on the table.

An old rock song blared from the speakers of the hazy bar. An argument was breaking out over who called stripes down by the pool table. A waitress in a small top and tight jeans walked over to the table, making eyes at Dean, who returned them with a smile.

"Anything else I can"—

"No," snapped Jonquil. The waitress' face fell and she glared at Jonquil. She walked away.

Dean sighed and gave her an angry tired look. "Why'd you do that for? She could have given me her number."

"Among other things, I'm sure."

He glared at her. Sam sighed and took a drink from his bottle. "Cool it you guys."

"I'm cool. It's Jonnie over here that needs to cool down. You want a beer?"

"I'm not old enough," she muttered to Dean, turning away.

A smile crept up his lips, and Sam shook his head, knowing his brother all too well.

"Aww. That's real cute. Little Jonnie's upset because she can't play with the big kids."

"What?" she turned to him, affronted. "I'll have you know I'm to be twenty in three days, and I don't plan on playing with 'big kids'."

"Then stay in the sand box, kid." Dean took a swig of his beer.

Jonquil breathed in deeply, attempting to restrain herself. Sam gave her a worried glance.

"Maybe we should start talking about the case."

"Maybe we shouldn't."

Jonquil's eyes shot up at Dean and a fire of rage burned through them.

"_Maybe we shouldn't_? Enough of this bullshit. I'm going to shoot everyone in that pageant until I see who the hell is possessed. Goodnight dammit!"

With that, Jonquil rose violently from the table and walked out of the bar, leaving the brothers speechless and shocked. Sam stood to get her. Dean held him back for a moment, eyes trained on her distant figure.

"She'll be back."

Sam gave him a dirty look and pulled away. He headed after her. Dean sighed and rolled his head. He placed his beer hard on the table and got up, following his brother.

"Unbelievable! The audacity of those two!"

Jonquil walked into the dark and humid night, away from the soft fading glow of the roadside bar. She cursed to herself for not bringing her own truck and agreeing to ride backseat in the Winchesters' car. The motel was only five miles away.

"I can walk this. I can walk this…" She repeated the mantra silently, halfheartedly.

Jonquil continued on her way; the bar was becoming faint in the distance. A familiar hum startled her. Jonquil turned to her left, where she met the black coasting Impala. Dean rolled down his window. She continued to walk.

"Jonnie...get in the car. Come on."

Dean's face was tilted out the window, slightly apologetic, no doubt due to his brother's reprimanding.

Jonquil carried on. Dean frowned. "Jonquil. In the car…now."

She continued as if she did not hear him.

"Fine. If you want to walk five miles from here to the motel, go ahead. If we never see you again, at least you won't have to worry about that damn demon." He turned to Sam. "I tried."

Dean moved back into his seat, looking away from his brother's unsatisfied gaze. Sam turned to Jonquil.

"Jonquil, please get in the car. You'll need your rest for tomorrow."

She stopped and turned to Sam. "Tomorrow? I might as well die tonight. Ha! How tragic, I'd have died a teenager."

Dean threw her an exasperated look. He muttered something about her dramatics.

"Please Jonnie. It's already late."

Jonquil sighed. Sam opened the door and moved his seat forward.

The balmy summer air was thick and the sun burned the asphalt. Two men and a woman walked toward out of the crowded parking lot behind the Seven Oaks Milton Center. A large poster advertised today's event: The Annual Young Lady of South Carolina Beauty Pageant.

The three people walked into the center, where a bright eyed blonde haired woman sat in the front desk, smiling. She spoke with a southern drawl, as did most people round those parts.

"Good mornin'! If you're here to register for the competition, it's too late, but you can still watch."

Dean Winchester smiled charmingly at the girl, as did Sam. Jonquil forced out a smile.

"No, we're actually reporters, from the Carolinian Herald. We're doing coverage on pageants, and this beauty pageant was the best choice."

She smiled at the Winchesters, and glanced at Jonquil. "All three of you?"

"I'm just the photographer." Jonquil smiled, and the woman's tense smile eased.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to talk to the contestants, _after_ the pageant."

Dean leaned over the counter, smiling at the girl. "Well, that's the thing, we need to talk to them before, you know, to get their opinions, who they think will win…Your eyes are sparkling blue, did you know that?"

The woman blushed, and batted her lashes. "I've been told…"

Jonquil drew her gaze elsewhere, and Sam waited as Dean sweet talked the woman into giving them backstage passes.

Dean gave Jonquil and Sam a cocky smile as they walked into the auditorium, where people were setting up the stage, and friends and families were wandering around, making noise.

"Let's make this quick. I've got a date tonight with Cheryl." Dean held up a scrap of paper.

Sam rolled his eyes as they pulled into a corner. He handed Jonquil a rosary, and Dean a thick journal.

"Dean and I can stay backstage, Jonnie, go into the dressing room."

She handed the boys pictures of the four questionable contestants. Dean looked at the pictures and smirked. Then he frowned looking up at Jonquil.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Why do you get to go backstage?"

"Because I'm the photographer. And a girl. Less suspicious, you know?"

He frowned at her. "Come on then, let's go."

They split up, and Jonquil walked back behind the stage, and slipped into the dressing room. The room was filled with hair spray and perfume. Girls with blonde hair, red hair, brown hair and black hair swarmed throughout the room. The air was buzzing with tense excitement.

Jonquil silently closed the door, and held onto the camera around her neck. A girl with curly red hair stared at her. She cocked a brow. Jonquil smiled.

"Hi, I'm Laura del Toro, from the Carolinian Herald. I'm the photographer, working on an article on the contestants of the pageant. I'm just here to take some pictures, if you don't mind. It's centered in Charleston."

The girl looked at her for a moment more and smiled. "Sure. I'm Anne Killigrew."

She stuck a pose, and Jonquil smiled, taking a picture. "Say, do you have any water?"

"Yeah, there's a water cooler in the corner. I'll bring you a cup."

Jonquil smiled, watching as Anne left the dressing room to find cups. Jonquil slowly slinked through the crowd of girls, trying to reach the water cooler in the corner. She glanced around as she reached her destination. Jonquil's eyes rested on the large mirror surrounded by bright bulbs. The girls were arguing, talking, and applying mascara and the like, none paying attention to the girl by the water cooler, save one.

Jonquil opened the cooler and slipped the rosary into it as she whispered the blessing. She glanced up at the large vanity mirror where one girl met her eyes through the reflection. Carrie Anderson, one of the 'finalists'. And her eyes flashed black. She smiled at Jonquil.

"Crap." Jonquil now knew who she had to exorcise. A tap on the shoulder startled Jonnie. Anne smiled at her, holding cups.

"I've got the cups. Are you"—

"You know Anne, why don't you serve some refreshment to the other girls; I have to go outside for a minute."

Anne frowned, a confused look on her face as Jonquil passed by her and went out of the dressing room.

Jonquil closed the door and looked around the stage. She spotted Sam talking to one of the stage crew, and Dean not too far, smiling and talking to one of the contestants.

"Sam!" she called. He looked her direction and nodded. She watched as he pulled Dean away from his victim. The brothers walked over to Jonquil as she moved away form the dressing room.

"You know Jonnie, this wasn't such a bad gig after all. I've got seven numbers already."

Dean smirked at her, proud of his catch. Sam rolled his eyes. Jonquil glared at him in agitation.

"That's wonderful but I found our demon. It's Carrie Anderson."

"Dirty blonde with brown eyes?"

Jonquil nodded at Sam. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you just smoke her there?"

Jonquil turned to Dean, and incredulous look on her face. "Well, I'm not in the habit of exorcising people in public. But if you are, then by all means, please, the door's right there."

He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw. He looked away.

"We need to get her before it's too"—

A high pitched scream interrupted Sam. They all turned to the dressing room.

"You guys wait here!" Jonnie ran up the stairs o the stage and turned to the door. She opened it to find a huddle of dressed up contestants around one of the girls. Anne Killigrew.

"Move, excuse me, get a doctor in here!" Jonquil said as she pushed through the girls.

"Laura!" Tears filled Anne's eyes and she held her arm. Jonquil's eyes widened.

"What happened in here?" The girls turned around to the sound of a man's voice. Sam and Dean stood at the doorway. Dean smiled, cocking his head as some of the girls smiled at him. Sam jabbed his side, a frown on his face.

"Anne was burned!"

"By what?"

Anne looked up at Jonnie, who was scanning the room for Carrie. She looked down at the burned girl. "Where is she?"

"I don't know! She just…I …"

Anne was overwhelmed, tears flooding her eyes once more. "Great…now my mascara's running."

Jonnie sighed. "I think that's the least of your worries. How did it happen?"

"I don't know, I mean, I was bringing her some water, and she kind of shrank back. Then she came up to me a few seconds later and…I don't know, she asked me if I was runner up last time…"

"Then…"

"Jonnie."

Jonquil turned to Dean, who motioned for her to leave. The authorities were already at the door.

"Jonnie? I thought your name"—

"Anne, please. Did you see where she left?"

"There's a small door over there, it leads under the stage."

Jonquil smiled sympathetically at Anne and patted her on the shoulder. "Thank you!"

Dean grinned at the girl as he pushed Jonquil toward the door at the other end of the dressing room. Sam pushed through the crowd, following their trail. They opened the door and climbed down.

Darkness and the smell of freshly cut oak surrounded them.

Dean bumped his head on one of the beams. "Damn it!"

"Do you have everything?" Sam asked.

Jonquil nodded.

"Well do you?"

"Yes. Yes I do." She shook her head; the darkness was engulfing everyone. They continued to walk in silence.

A small flame came on before the two of them. Dean held a lighter.

"You're welcome."

Sam spoke. "We need to be careful she can be anywhere."

They walked until Jonquil bumped into Dean, and Sam bumped into her.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh…"

They turned around slowly. A dirty blonde in a metallic turquoise taffeta dress stood a few feet behind Sam. Dean turned the flame in her direction. Her eyes glazed black. She smiled.

"Let's get this bitch."

"How are you going to run at her with a lighter?"

Dean handed Jonnie the lighter as he looked at his brother. Sam looked warily at the girl, and back at his brother. Dean nodded at Sam and they both charged at the girl. Jonquil's eyes widened in horror of the catastrophe about to take place.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The girl grabbed Dean and flung him over her shoulder, as Sam grabbed her right arm and twisted it behind her. She screamed, struggling against his grip.

"Dean!"

Dean stood up. He frowned. "_Exorciamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas"—_

"Stop!"

The brothers turned to Jonquil. "That's not going to help anything!"

"Dean, hurry up!" Sam held fast to the girl, who was threatening to flip him over.

"_Omnis incursion infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio, omnis congregario, et secta diabolica…"_

As Dean continued the exorcism, Jonquil sighed and placed the lighter on the floor. She opened up her duffle bag and rummaged through it. She found the wooden box and the rosary.

"Some light please!" Dean yelled over the girl's screaming.

Sam was near his own breaking point. Jonquil ran up to them, knocking down the lighter as she stood up. Latin filled the air.

"…_Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare!_"

The girl silenced for a moment as she saw Jonquil. A twisted frown came on her face as Jonquil placed the rosary around her neck. She screamed violently as her body became stiff. Sam let go, confused and Dean stopped the ritual. Jonquil opened up the wooden box.

"_Superbia! Ex Vitium vos erant pario , per Rectum vos es reus!_"

Jonquil held open a vial, outstretched toward the girl. The hunters watched as black smoked tunneled out of the girl's mouth and into the glass. Jonquil was shaking slightly as she smiled, putting g the vial into its place. She frowned, as Sam caught Carrie's limp body. But that was not what bothered her. The expression on the brothers' faces and how they seemed to glow in orangey amber light did not make her feel easy. She felt her nasal passages sting as smoke filled the air. She turned around.

Fire had caught the ends of the wooden beams of the stage.

"Oh no…"

Jonquil ran up the fire, grabbing her duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" Sam yelled at her. He held up Carrie's unconscious body, and began to make his way toward the stairs.

Jonquil opened up her bag, against all reason, and tried to put out the fire. She coughed violently. She threw water at the base of the beam, but to no avail. The flames lashed out, licking the wooden foundation above her. Jonquil felt a hand grab hers and pull. The smoke was suffocating her, as she struggled to follow the hand's pull.

"Come on Jonnie, stay up!" Dean's voice tried to break through the smoke that was already clouding her vision, and now her consciousness.

"You mind telling me what the hell was all that about?"

Dean's angry voice boomed in Jonquil's ear.

"Uh, yeah. What was all that?" Sam gave her no mercy.

A small lamp light cast its glow on Jonquil.

She kept her eyes closed and frowned. The last thing she recalled was smoke and fire.

"Damn it!"

Jonnie opened her eyes to a fuming Dean, standing at the foot of the bed, and Sam sitting on the bed next to hers. She was in their room. Jonnie sat up, a hand catching her head. This was Terrence all over again. Her execution was always lacking. This time it nearly got her killed. She looked up at the boys.

"Is everyone all right?"

"Besides Carrie and Anne, yes. The sprinkler system went off a few minutes after we left from under the stage."

Sam's voice was soft, an attempt at calming Jonnie's nerves. Dean did not aid in this conquest.

"What were you thinking? What was all that?"

"I was trying to"—

"I told you if we were gonna work together, you tell me everything. That was not everything!"

Jonquil looked away from Dean. She was not aware of what he was yelling, only the volume of his rant. Once more, Jonquil had failed. She could not believe it. Perhaps it was that she was working with others. No. That was not it.

_Perhaps in the face of immediate danger, you'll shape up_.

Jonquil scoffed, a bitter laugh escaped her lips.

"You think something's funny?" Jonquil looked up at Dean, who seemed seconds away from escorting her away from consciousness.

Her brown eyes were remorseful and angry, as she looked up at him. "I promise. I won't go back on my word. Please."

_You said that last time. Yet here we are again. _Terrence's voice resounded in her head.

"Please. It was just one more mistake. I'm still learning. I'm trying to do this right. I promise I won't mess up again."

Dean and Sam stared at her strangely.

"Are you okay Jonquil?" Sam neared her. She turned to him, a faraway look in her eyes. She blinked and frowned.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. We know. You've said it a few times now." Dean crossed his arms, a suspicious look in his eyes.

"I think you should get some rest." Sam's face was etched with concern, as he glanced to his brother. Dean sighed, clearly not winning this battle.

"Yeah. Maybe I should," Jonquil said more to herself than the Winchesters. She stood up and headed toward the door. She paused before it.

"Can I have my bag please?"

Sam reached for the duffel bag and passed it to Dean, who in turn gave it to Jonquil. She opened it, searching for the Cradle of Sin. She frowned looking up at Dean. He slowly grinned at her.

"Give it back."

"I don't have it."

"Liar."

"Dean…"

Dean turned around and glowered at his brother. He reached under the bed and pulled up the small wooden box. He handed it grudgingly to Jonquil.

"Goodnight."

Jonquil closed the door behind her. Dean turned around and glared at Sam.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."


	10. Al Orfanato

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thank you all who read, those who added this story to their alerts, and Avari for reviewing! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Ten

Jonquil ran her hands through her hair. She was shaking. Death was at her door, made by her own devices. She was angry again, for her failure. Terrence proved her right. She needed to shape up. But how? How could she? No one would train her. Forget asking Sam and Dean. They would point out of the time constraints, or laugh, respectively. Jonquil slumped down to the floor.

Her mind was racing with how she could pull herself together. Her flaws were going to be the death of her. She could not fathom another escape from her own error. She had no choice but to pick up the slack. Hit the books _and_ the field as it were.

Jonquil steadied her nerves and stood, ready to receive sleep with open arms, and hope for clarity in the morning.

"So where are we going today?"

Dean took the cup of coffee Sam handed him. The brothers looked at Jonquil, who was leaning against her pick up.

"New Mexico," she replied.

"After what?" asked Sam.

Jonquil watched their expressions, as they awaited her answer.

It seemed that they were intent on forgetting her break down the night before. Sam's glance was focused on the sun, and Dean looked at her expectantly. There was a tension in the air that suggested they were slightly worried about her mental state. _Slightly_.

"Well?" Dean could not wait much longer.

Jonquil had resolved to continue her training. She had woken up early, and began to read the texts she had stopped after her professor's death. She decided to do so even when her company would take her to a bar. She smirked at the thought of angering Dean, though in retrospect, when the field training part of her plan began, when she would ask them to train her, she would need a happy and pleased Dean, not an angry one.

"Earth to Sybil, we're asking you a question."

Jonquil's attention rose to Dean. She spoke.

"Lust."

Dean smirked. "All right, now we're going somewhere!"

"Shut up Dean."

The two turned to Sam, in surprise. His face was strewn with anger ad worry. He looked at Jonquil, a long hard look in his eyes. She shook and turned away. Now was not the time to bring to light all her problems.

Jonquil cleared her throat, turning back to Dean.

"Yes. Now it is a 'party'. But we have to go." She looked back at Sam. "Now."

Jonquil started for her pickup when Sam spoke.

"How much more are you going to keep from us?" The boy had been thinking for some time the night before.

"We had a deal," Dean said, crossing his arms.

Jonquil shut her eyes, wishing that things would be simpler. She turned to the Winchesters.

"What is there that you cannot be without? Trust me."

Deans scoffed. "Last time we trusted you, it nearly got us all killed. You're damn lucky we were there. How the hell were we supposed to know your special rite? You owe us that."

Jonquil's eyes narrowed at Dean, glancing occasionally to Sam. She spoke. "Do you want to know? Do you?"

"Yeah. We do. It would help make saving you a lot faster and easier. You wanted a team, you got one. It's your turn to start acting like we are one." Sam was stern.

"We're heading to Albuquerque. I've been tracking it for a bit. Lust has been circulating small towns around the area."

"How do you know?," he prodded on.

"Seventeen deaths. Over exertion. Sexual, obviously."

Sam cleared his throat and Dean grunted, a hand running on the back of his hair. The men made their way into the car. Dean paused in front of his door as Jonquil opened hers.

"This conversation isn't over Jonquil."

She stared at him briefly. She said nothing as she got in her pickup and turned on the ignition.

"!Ay! ¡Yay! ¡Yay! ¡Yay! ¡Canta y no llores! Porque cantando se alegra el cielito lindo los corazones…"

Dean was slightly irritated. Sam was not far from said point. The only one at peace seemed to be

Jonquil. She flipped the page of her heavy leather bound book. She looked up at the men.

"What?"

"This is the last time I ever let you pick a bar."

Dean had a grouchy look on his face as he grabbed his Corona. Sam looked around the seedy cantina, hoping for an escape, perhaps a restroom somewhere.

A small set of mariachis sang in high nasal voices, as the patrons of the bar continued to down whatever was in their glasses. The light was dim, and the corners of the bar were dingy. A buzzing green neon light above the bar counter was the brightest source of illumination in the cantina. The air was heavy with stifled hopes and forgotten dreams, all drowning in cheap alcohol.

Sam rubbed his shoulder, looking around. "Yeah. This place is just…How can any be in here? How can you even read? It's dark in here."

Jonquil smiled and put down her book. "I thought you guys would like this place…They cook too."

The men looked at her incredulously.

"I'm not eating anything from this dump."

"Anything else?" A voice from above called Dean's attention. Sam and Jonquil smirked.

A pretty waitress with doe brown eyes and full red lips stood behind him. A smile slowly crept up on Dean's lips. His eyes traveled her body and the smile grew wider.

"Why yes, there is…"

Jonquil shook her head and Sam turned away from his brother. Jonquil spoke, interrupting Dean's game. He frowned at her.

"No. Nothing. Another drink for these two."

The woman walked away, and Dean turned to watch. Sam jabbed his ribs. Dean turned to him, a reprimanded look in his face. The three waited in silence as the woman brought the drinks. The men took a drink.

Dean spoke. "What the hell was all that back in Seven Oaks? That little box? Everything?"

Sam's gaze was also focused on Jonquil. His eyes were steady. She sighed.

"Right now? Must we?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. Right now."

"I'd rather not."

Dean put his drink down. "You'd rather not, Huh? Well how's about me and Sammy here walk out this bar and out of your life…'Cause to be honest doll, _I'd rather not be here."_

He looked around the seedy cantina. Sam was not about to let her off either.

"Look, we're spending valuable time here to help you. You need to help us help you. Okay? Just tell us what we need to know, it'll make things a lot easier. On all of us," he said.

Jonquil looked at the clock on the wall. 1:41 AM. Today was most definitely the worst birthday ever. And the sun hadn't even risen. She sighed.

"The box is called the _Cunabula de Rectum_. In it are seven glass vials, cradles if you will, for the sins. With a blessed rosary, you lock the poor soul, and using the right words, you deliver the sucker into bed. That's it. What else do you need to know, aside from the 'magic words'?"

The men stared at her with hard eyes. Sam's eyes were glazed with disbelief. He spoke first.

"_Magic words_? Are you serious? You don't seem to understand how much we've put up at stake here to help you. And now you tell us this is job is…it's a joke?"

Jonquil's face was tired and overwhelmed, as she searched for the words to recuperate her lost alliance. She knew that having lost Sam would only hinder her progress even more.

"That's not what I meant! It's not a joke, you don't"—

Dean had his arms crossed and his glare bore into Jonnie like razors. Sam shook his head and stood up and looked down at Jonquil. Regret was in his eyes, but anger blotted his remorse out. He headed toward the door. Dean remained sitting, looking at the damsel in distress. There was something in his eyes that goaded Jonquil.

"You know, Sam was really on your side. But I can't say I didn't see it coming."

He stood up. Jonquil watched him. He pulled out some cash from his pocket, eyes still on hers.

"And I almost believed you."

Dean turned around and walked out of the cantina. Jonquil's eyes remained on the half drunk bottle of beer on the table.

"¿Señorita, una cancion?"

Jonquil heard one of the mariachi's voices. She looked up to the short Mexican man in his ranchero garb.

"Hoy es mi cumpleanos."

The man turned around to his instrumental companions and the song began.

"Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el rey David, a las muchachas bonitas se las cantamos así…"

Jonquil heard the familiar sound of the Impala starting up. She slumped back in her chair and pulled out some cash. The mariachis finished their song and she smiled up at them.

Jonquil put the money down on the table. "Gracias."

Jonquil stood up and walked out of the cantina. She saw her own truck alone in front of the establishment. She looked up into the dark purple sky, nearly starless, and sighed.

"A Happy Birthday indeed."

Jonquil stepped out of her truck. She saw a few cars parked in front of a cheap motel. Among them was the Winchesters' ride. Jonquil sighed and walked up toward the front desk to ask for a room. She pulled open the door and rang the bell on the table.

A young man came forth, roused from sleep.

"Can I help you?" He asked groggily.

"One room please."

The man nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He turned to reach for a key, and turned back empty handed.

"Sorry. No more rooms."

Jonquil's face fell, and her eyes narrowed. She spoke with a restrained voice.

"Were the last people to take a room two guys?"

"Uh…Yeah. I think so." The man looked down at a clipboard. "Yeah. Tommy and Nick Sorvino."

Jonquil scoffed and frowned. "Thanks."

She marched out of the motel and headed to her pickup. She slammed the door and turned up the music. Josie Miles had nothing on Jonquil as she tore down the road to the next nearest motel.

As Jonquil drove, she resisted the urge to turn back and slit the tires off of the Winchester car.

"Stupid dirty rotten scoundrels…"

"_Take my Winchester off the shelf and…"_

"I'll take those damn Winchesters off the shelf alright…," Jonquil grumbled, speeding down the highway.

Jonquil checked herself into a motel a few miles away from the Winchesters. She gathered her belongings for the next day. She was going to capture Lust and the rest of the Sins on her own.

Perhaps no one understood that the matter was quite serious—her life was on the line. But if doing things alone was the only way to get them done, so be it.

Before she lay her head down on the pillow Jonquil prayed. She knew this could be dangerous, and she had a gift for near death experiences. She prayed she would not die tomorrow.

Jonquil frowned, knowing what she would want next was wrong, but she wanted it anyway. If she did die tomorrow, she hoped it would spite Dean and Sam.

Jonquil needed to learn a lot more, but so did those boys.


	11. Eros Loves His Mortals

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: The action finally picks up! Even more! Thank you all who read, those who added this story to their alerts! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"So where'd you think that nympho's hiding out? I hope it's a chick. A hot one…" Dean took a drink of his coffee, frowning. It was too hot.

Sam frowned at him. "I don't know. Jonquil didn't tell us."

Dean shrugged. "We'll find her. The nympho, I mean."

"I just can't believe she kept us in the dark like this. She wants us to take her seriously, yet she treats everything like a joke. I just don't understand the rationale…"

Dean didn't look at his brother. He recalled the look of confusion and desperation in Jonquil's eyes as they had left the bar last night. He thought about feeling bad for her, but Sam was right. The girl was taking it lightly, so why shouldn't they?

Dean put down his coffee and resumed cleaning the gun he had out before Sam returned.

"I think I found something. Local women dying…6 within the last two months. And they all live within a fifteen mile radius. They're all young."

"Damn it."

"What?" Sam looked up from the laptop.

"That means it's a guy. This isn't gonna fun. Damn Jonnie."

Sam gave his brother a flat look and turned away, hoping to make a proper find on where Lust would be found. He stared at the computer screen and stopped.

"Why are still going after these Sins?"

Dean looked up, a blank look on his face. He was caught off guard.

"We take care of the bad things. It's our job. You know that."

Sam remained silent for a while then returned to the computer. Dean stared at his guns.

Inside, even Dean wasn't sure why they were going after the Sins. He knew that going after the Sins was the right thing to do, and that maybe Jonquil didn't entirely deserve their abandonment. But these reasons weren't sufficient enough.

Dean stood and headed to the small fridge and took out a beer. Sam watched his brother.

"Isn't it a little too early for that?"

Dean did not return his brother's chide. It was too early to think about why they were actually going out to save Jonquil Salas' life.

That thought alone encouraged him to take another beer out. He wasn't even finished with the first one.

"It's the right thing to do…" he mumbled to himself.

He wasn't convinced yet.

Jonquil stared at the small yellow house from behind her truck's window. The suburban neighborhood had at least five of the same yellow houses on each block. She had driven down the road slowly, looking for minute details that would give the house away. And she found it.

The lawn before the yellow house was watered b the sprinklers, but had long since seen a mower. A small stack of newspapers were piled up on the porch, along with some pieces of mail. The mail box itself had at last three days worth of mail still inside. And everything was far too quiet around the house. There were no sparrows to greet Jonquil as she stepped out of the pick up.

Silently, with a stern face to the fiery midday sun and duffel bag on her right shoulder, Jonquil made her way to the door.

She was still upset with the Winchesters, but Jonquil knew she had to rest all her anger aside if she wanted to capture Lust successfully.

She knocked on the door. Silence met her. She looked around and knocked again. Nothing.

Jonquil turned the knob and opened the door. The air was still and sunlight flooded the living room to her right. She looked to her left and saw a girl. Wrong. It was her reflection inn the full body mirror against the wall. She relaxed and let her eyes wander further up, where a staircase led upstairs. The kitchen was beyond the hallway in front of her. She turned to head up the stairs when she noticed something in the mirror.

There sitting on the couch a few feet behind her was a young man. He had dark wavy hair that fell down to his shoulders. At the distance she was at, Jonquil could only see the dangerous smirk playing on the man's lips. The light played with his face, but it was clear he was attractive. One of his legs crossed over the other and his arms were on the rims of the couch.

Jonquil's heart froze. In one motion she grabbed her pistol out of her waistband and turned to the man. He remained seated and smiled.

"You wouldn't shoot me, would you?"

Jonquil stared at the man, who might have been a few years older than her. No she could not shoot him. There was something alluring about him. But this was not the man talking. It was Lust. Her grasp around the pistol tightened.

"I wouldn't shoot him, but I'd shoot you."

The man stood up, a smile on his face. "Rough, eh? I can dig it. But unfortunately, the basement is full, so we'll have to take it upstairs. What do you say?"

As he neared Jonquil, the man's green eyes bore into hers; she felt a foreign wave of desire touch her fringes. She frowned. He grinned.

"Not enough for you? I can turn it up…"

Her fingers started to tremble, and she felt something attempt to gain over her will, trying to make her drop the gun and head toward the man. Jonquil growled.

"ENOUGH!" She cast the gun aside and reached in her duffel bag. She pulled out the rosary.

The man let out a short laugh, coming closer to her. She could see his face clearer now, and he was stunning. Lust's power over her was overwhelming; she was frozen.

"You'll need to try harder than that sugar."

Jonquil's eyes widened as he stood before her, and took her hand into his own, and slowly pried open her fingers. Her eyes remained on him, and her thoughts fell on the myth of the Gorgons. The rosary fell to the ground. She gathered her strength and looked away from the man. She felt a regain of her own control. His hand tightened on hers.

"Don't even think about it…"

"Too late!" Jonquil kicked the man in the shin, and he let go of her, gasping in pain.

"You bitch!"

Jonquil caught her breath, as she felt his control over her diminish. She didn't have time to think. She ran.

"How am I supposed to know which house it is? They're all alike!"

Sam frowned at Dean who had been protesting about not finding the right house. They had been driving around the neighbor hoods for twenty minutes.

They drove on slowly. Dean squinted as he looked out the window, searching. A familiar sight greeted his eyes.

"I think I've found it."

Sam looked out the window. He spotted the green pickup truck three blocks away from them. The whole neighborhood was quiet. Dean drove faster. He parked the car in an empty space not far from the truck.

The Winchesters got out of the truck, and slammed the doors, looking around. They walked up to the car. The yellow tie with green stitching hung round the rearview mirror. A few cassettes and books were scattered about.

"Yeah. It's the right house." Sam turned to the yellow house with the white door.

Sam looked at the car and door. He wondered how long Jonquil had been in there. They had been driving around for twenty minutes and not once had they seen her car until now.

"How long you think she's been here?"

Dean turned to his brother and shrugged. There was something wrong about the muted silence that filled the air. They hadn't seen her once during their drive. There might be something wrong. Dean headed back to the trunk of their car and grabbed some guns. He handed one to Sam.

"It's too quiet."

Sam agreed with his brother, although he expected him to wait longer before jumping in. Given, the whole neighborhood wasn't sitting right with him either.

The Winchesters ran up the lawn and opened the door. Once more it was quiet. The boys glanced around; there was no sign of anyone. Sam noticed something shiny on the floor by the mirror. It was a gun; he headed toward it. The rug that lay before the stairs was out of place, as if someone had rushed up the stairs. Sam picked up the gun.

Dean saw the duffel bag half open. He headed toward it when he felt something round beneath his heels. He looked down. The rosary.

"Son of a bitch…." Dean grabbed the bag and the rosary.

"Dean…" Dean turned to his brother. He froze when he saw the gun. It was Jonnie's gun. Sam glanced at the stairwell. Dean made a start, but Sam stopped him.

"Listen…"

All was quiet. They heard muffled voices upstairs. The Winchesters charged up the stairs.

"You're the first to put up a fight…"

The man wiped the blood from his lip as he circled around Jonquil. She still did not stare into his eyes.

"Come on sugar. Why don't you want to look at me?"

The two had been circling, pacing around each other like wild cats, ready for the fight. Jonquil knew she couldn't keep the charade up for long; he always found a way to block the door that lead downstairs.

She was defenseless. Her gun, the rosary, the Cradle—all of it was downstairs. She had but her wits to her. Her hand to hand combat was fair enough to keep her alive for a while. But this wasn't just a man. This was a man possessed by Lust, who would stop at nothing to have her.

Jonquil spied the rug beneath his feet. Perhaps if she could pull it and knock him down…

"AHHH!"

Jonquil's eyes went wide as she went flying backward onto the bed. The man had tackled her with full force. She was caught off guard.

"Come on now…this can be fun for the both of us…"

The man had her pinned down. Jonquil struggled against his strength. His hands tightened their grip on her wrists. She never met his face.

"Look at me."

"Arrgh! Get off of me!"

"You want to play rough?"

Jonquil deepened the frown that was already on her face. "Are we having the same conversation?"

"Of course we are, but your struggle is wearing thin. I'd enjoy it much more if your clothes were off. Allow me to help you."

Without any trouble, the man brought Jonquil's wrists above her head. He held them together with one hand, and she felt as though her wrists were being crushed by iron shackles. His other hand gently touched her face. She was startled with the gentility he had taken, and almost looked at him in surprise.

"What is your name? Look at me…Tell me your name…"

The man's voice was smooth and pleasant to Jonquil's ears. He brought her face to his, and she avoided his eyes once more.

"Never," she spat out. She kept her eyes on his chest.

He frowned. He let her face go roughly. "I tried to make this pleasant for the both of us, but now it should seem only I shall take enjoyment of it. No matter. You'll like it anyway."

The man gave out a chilling laugh as he ripped the side of the bed cover off. He tied Jonquil's hands to the headboard, as she tried to move her legs, attempting to throw him off balance. He straddled her, and tightened his legs around her hips and legs.

"Errh!" Jonquil growled in frustration. She was definitely worried at this point. Her hands were tightly secured around the head board, and the man's legs were practically cutting off the circulation to her lower body.

"His name's Jesse by the way. He's liked it when the others called his name out. Not sure he's going to enjoy his much, but I will."

There was a wicked grin on Jesse's face.

"Damn it…," Jonquil muttered.

A loud thundering sound broke both people's attention from the task at hand. The door suddenly burst open.

Jonquil was never more relieved to see the Winchesters.

A look of anger and concern was plastered on Dean's face; Sam was equally as shocked.

"Get off her. Now," Dean barked.

Sam pushed past Dean and grabbed Jesse's arm. The man's eyes turned black and he smiled at Sam, cocking his head to the side. He shot a look at Dean.

"You boys will have to take a number. I'm first."

Jesse swung at Sam, who blocked his shot. He grabbed Jesse's arm and pulled it behind his back. Jesse jabbed Sam's ribs. It loosened his grip.

"Dean! Now!" Jesse was struggling to leave Sam's hold.

Dean charged at Jesse and punched him across the face. Jesse's nose was bleeding when his face met Dean's once more.

Dean held the end of his gun as a club against Jesse's smirking face. "Say something smart. I dare you."

Jonquil watched the whole scene and rolled her eyes. She cried out. "DEAN! Just do it already!"

"_Fornicatio_," Sam yelled out as Dean placed the rosary around Jesse's neck.

Jesse's eyes were black, and he stood frozen, screaming in anger.

Jonquil watched helplessly as the boys remained as frozen as Lust.

"Grab the Cradle!"

Dean slowly moved back as Sam still held on to the screaming man. He picked up the duffel bag and opened it. He pulled out the Cradle.

"What do I do now?" Dean turned to Jonquil.

"Hurry up Dean! I don't know how long this lasts!" Sam was anxious.

Dean's eyes were wide, as he looked at Jonquil for instructions.

"Open the box. Take out the next empty vial. Open it, and repeat after me: _Fornicatio! __Ex Vitium vos erant pario , per Rectum vos es reus! _Do it Dean!

Dean followed Jonquil's directions as he spoke. "_Fornicatio! Ex Vitium vos errant pario, per Rectum vos es reus!_"

The three hunters watched as the man stopped screaming as black smoke tunneled out of his mouth and into the small vial in Dean's hand. Jesse collapsed; Sam struggled to keep him up.

Sam gently placed Jesse on the floor as he headed toward Jonquil. She stared at him with venom in her eyes. She was fuming. She turned her scalding gaze to Dean whose eyes had yet to meet hers. He put the wooden box away.

All was silent as Sam untied the binding cloth around Jonquil's wrists. The cloth fell to her side. Jonquil got off the bed and rubbed her wrists. There was a deep scowl on her face as she briskly marched past Dean, grabbed her duffel bag, and headed downstairs.

Sam was at loss for words when he turned to his brother, who had a frown on his face. Dean turned around.

Jonquil headed for the front door when she heard Dean call out from upstairs.

"Jonnie we need to talk!"

She shook her head and scoffed. Jonquil opened the door and walked out.

Upstairs, the loud slam of the front door shook the walls.

The Winchesters looked at each other. Dean pressed his hands against his eyes.

"Damn it," he muttered.


	12. Like Small Children

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and places belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Not as action packed as Chapter 11, but the action is only starting-within! Thanks to **Crunch Berry Baroness **for reviewing! Also, thanks to all who read and added this story to their alerts! Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Jonquil was fuming as she turned the key in the ignition. The car made a running noise. Her frown deepened.

"Not now." She turned the key. It made the same sound. She tried it again.

Jonquil's face twisted in frustration. She grabbed at the roots of her hair. The car wasn't starting.

"Well. This is going to be a fun day, isn't it?"

Jonquil opened the door to her truck, grabbed her duffel bag and slammed the door. She had to make her way to town, or at least to someone who had starter cables. Jonquil stopped, realizing she had some in the cab. She continued walking, mind set on finding anyone.

She attempted to quell her anger. "Repress, repress, repress…."

Jonquil repeated the words of her late mentor. But the only true words that resounded in her mind were when would she finally have to deal with the repressed demons that plagued her?

Jonquil had heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She had heard the footsteps for the past seven houses, but she refused to turn around. She didn't know who it was, nor was she concerned with that aspect, for her hand gripped the gun that was snugly fit inside the waistband of her jeans. Her hands patted the spot. Rose was not there.

"Jonnie…."

Jonquil turned around. Sam held out her pistol. She glared at him and snatched out of his hands. She threw a dirty look to Dean, who stood a few feet behind his brother. She turned back and continued marching forward.

"Jonquil…wait. Please. Hear us out." Sam's voice pleaded from behind Jonquil. Dean rolled his eyes.

She continued walking. If she turned around, she did not know what would happen. Sam's voice continued to follow her.

"Jonquil, you have to"-

"Enough Sam. I'm not begging her to come back. You shouldn't either."

Jonquil stopped at Dean's voice. She turned around slowly, a deranged look in her eye.

"Oh?" She cocked her head. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, yeah it is. I don't know what kind of stupid stunt you were trying to pull back there, but you almost got yourself raped. You're damn lucky we got there when we did."

"Am I? Because I was told I could handle myself. I mean, that is why I was working alone. I don't need anyone's help right?"

Dean gave Jonquil a hard stare and Sam turned his gaze away.

"That's what I thought. You guys don't want to help me, don't, but don't come chasing after me. This is my affair to deal with now. I've asked you both for your help one time too many, and it always comes back to this. I'm on a scavenger hunt for my life, so excuse me if I try to make light of the fact that I might die in a few months. It's that or I wouldn't even bother fighting for my life."

The midday sun caused Jonquil to squint. Sam spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said last night. It's just it seemed as if you weren't taking this seriously. We need to know everything about this…we can't go in blind like we did last time."

Jonquil searched their faces with a stony look. "Why did you even come? How did you find me?"

The men stood before her, silent in their thoughts. There was a pensive and repentant look in Sam's eyes. Dean remained with a frown on his face. There was something sharp in his eyes. He spoke.

"It was the right thing to do."

"You said I could do it alone."

"I said I almost believed you."

Jonquil glanced at Sam. "Well? Do you both believe me now?"

The Winchesters remained silent. Jonquil had a heated and proud gaze in her eyes. She sensed there was something they were not saying, because in all honesty, not even Jonquil believed the lame excuse Dean had given her.

Silence and tension made the air in the Impala thick, and impossibly hard to breathe in.

Jonquil sat in the backseat with her arms crossed. Her eyes, like Sam and Dean's, were focused on nothing but the road ahead.

Behind the black car, a dark green pickup truck rolled along. After some prodding from Sam, Dean offered to tow Jonquil's truck and fix it. Jonquil reluctantly accepted, realizing there was no other option left for her.

The sun was beginning to set as they approached Jonquil's motel. Sam spoke to Jonquil.

"Where are you going to go tomorrow?"

"I'm heading to Utah." She glanced at Dean. "I need my car fixed as soon as possible please."

Dean let out a small snort and there was a scoff in his eyes.

"You're not going anywhere tomorrow. It's too dark to work on the car."

"They invented flashlights."

"I'm fixing your car for free. And besides, I'm not going to drive straight into Utah—"

"Utah? You guys are coming with me to Utah? Who decided on this?" She looked between Sam and Dean.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off.

"We're going. I'm—we're not going to let you commit suicide. You said you want to live? Get out of the car and be ready by twelve. Or else you're staying with us tonight."

There was a determined look in his eyes. Jonquil caught his gaze through the rearview mirror. She glanced at Sam, who seemed at loss for words with his brother's actions.

Jonquil grudgingly opened the door. "Thank you."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I did what had to be done."

Dean put tooth paste on his tooth brush. He let the water run on it and closed the faucet as he began to brush his teeth.

Sam called to his brother from the other room as he took off his boots. "What were you thinking?"

Sam could not understand his brother's sudden change of heart. All this time, he griped and moaned about how unfair it was to their father, their entire reason for being together at this point, to help Jonquil. And now, he wants to ride out to Utah so some girl he seemed to hate does not die?

Dean rinsed and wiped his mouth with a towel. He walked out of the bathroom.

"Well Sam, I was thinking it'd be a waste to let such a pretty girl die without ever sleeping with Dean Winchester. What do you think I was thinking? She could get hurt. Or die. And she wasn't fucking around. She almost got herself killed today. She's taking it seriously. I'll help her now."

Sam's jaw clenched, searching his brother's face. Dean grew irritated.

"What?"

Sam said nothing and turned away. His brother was becoming foreign to him. Dean stared at him a moment more but decided not to pursue the conversation. He walked to his bed and lay down.

Dean looked at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. What did it matter that he decided to go back and save Jonquil? She could have died, as they both had seen. So what did it matter? The fact of the matter was that they were going to help her, or else they'd be better off killing her themselves.

Dean closed his eyes, and did the best he could to ignore the maddening question pounding in the back of his skull. He frowned.

The accusatory eyes that met him in sleep only brought him back to where he did not want to be.

Why did he really agree to help Jonquil?

Jonquil sat on the bench with her duffel bag beside her. She glanced at the sun, as it headed for the middle of the sky. It was 12:17 PM and her truck was no where in sight.

She reclined on the bench, and shielded her eyes with her hands.

After ten minutes of waiting in the New Mexico heat, Jonquil heard a familiar grumble, that of the Winchester Impala. She squinted at the road.

"About time…" she muttered. She stood up waiting as the car pulled up.

Dean and Sam sat in their seats. Dean glanced at Jonquil. Sam got out of the car, and headed around back to unchain the truck from the car.

Jonquil stared at Dean. He returned his gaze and raised a brow.

"Yes?"

"Thank you." She turned to Sam and he nodded.

"You're welcome," Dean said. "You've got all your stuff?"

Jonquil nodded and motioned to her truck. A look in his eyes stopped her. She looked up toward Sam, who stood by her truck, arms crossed, as if he too, were waiting for something. She looked away. She spoke, a slightly irritated tone in her voice.

"We'll be heading to Nephi, taking the main roads. I-70 eventually."

"What are we looking for?" Sam questioned. Jonquil turned to him.

"Wrath." She reached into her duffel bag and pulled out some papers.

"Made copies, in case you didn't trust me." She held them out to Dean, glancing between the two brothers.

Dean took the papers, a sharp look thrown at Jonquil. Her eyes focused on Sam. Dean frowned as he put the papers in Sam's seat.

"Well? Are you satisfied with my research? Or do you need more proof?"

"I'll lead," Dean said with authority.

Jonquil let out a curt sigh, and shook her head. "As you wish."

As she headed toward her truck, Sam passed her. "I hope it to be of your liking Sam."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Jonquil had already slammed the side door of her car.


	13. And Anger Stirred Within Him

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to all who read and added this story to their alerts! THE ACTION PICKS UP-oh dear!

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

"What a selfish ungrateful little bitch." Dean pressed on the gas. Sam stared out the windshield.

"After all we've done. We go after her, we help her, and we even come in and save the damn day. And is that enough? Of course not, not for her. Then I fix her damn car—she has too many books in there—and not even a thank you. Can't believe that…"

Dean continued to mutter about Jonquil's inability to show gratitude. Sam however was drifting away.

His mind mulled through the last few months with his brother. There was an anger burning in him. Why was it that now, now, their father decided to disappear? Right when everything was becoming exactly what he wanted? A normal life—that was all he wanted. He glanced at Dean.

Who was Dean to come and take him away from all this; to send him back into the warped childhood he thought he served his sentence for already? Sam scoffed and shook his head, as the feelings rose within him.

Dean did not notice his brother's attitude, and turned up the music.

Sam then found his attention at Jonquil's truck in front of them. She too had ignited his anger, slowly adding fuel when possible. He had tried to be nice to her, he genuinely had, but Dean was right, she was an ungrateful bitch. She had asked and declined their help time and time again, and now Dean wanted to help her. After all the rallying against her, Dean wanted to help Jonquil. And all he wanted was to leave. Besides, Jonquil sought out their father, not them.

"It always comes back to you…doesn't it?" Sam muttered beneath his breath.

Dean turned to him. "You said something?"

"Nothing. Just drive."

Dean gave his brother a confused and bothered look, and kept his gaze on the road.

Sam turned to the backseat, where he had placed Jonquil's proof. _I hope it to be of your liking Sam. _Sam's jaw clenched in annoyance, as he flipped through the papers, skimming over the articles.

Dean spoke. "Are they legit?"

Sam grunted. "They seem legit enough."

Sam's phone began to vibrate. He reached for it, Dean glancing between the road and his brother.

"Hello...I think so. Wait a minute…"

"What?"

"She wants to know if you can handle a few more hours, at least until we get out of New Mexico."

Dean pursed his lips and frowned. "Of course I can make another few hours. Can she?"

Sam looked away, irate with all the situations that finally seemed to line up in his mind. He brought he phone up.

"Sure we can. Bye."

Sam hung up and returned to his thoughts. Anger was brewing in him like a storm. He could certainly make a few more hours; anything that would end this side mission quicker.

Hours after the sun had set, and the moon was just beginning to settle herself, Jonquil took a right turn. They were out of New Mexico already for two hours, and a stop seemed necessary—the occasional lights on the highway were beginning to dance.

Behind her, the black Impala followed softly.

She drove further in, hoping to find a motel, or a roadside inn. It was a concrete two floor building. Cars were parked in a lot that surrounded the inn. Jonquil parked her car and stepped out with her duffel bag.

She turned at the sound of foot steps. Dean and Sam headed toward her from the other side of the lot. She waited for them in silence. When they approached, all three of the hunters headed into the front desk, a small concrete box, with a desk and chair within. A door led to the rest of the room. A bright fluorescent light illuminated the room, and bothered the onlookers' eyes.

Dean knocked on the glass. Sam spied a small bell and rang it. Within a few seconds, the door opened and an old man with a cigarette and a newspaper appeared. His voice was aged and rough.

"Can I help you?" He seemed bothered. The static sound of television echoed in the small room.

"We need two rooms please," Sam said.

The man looked on the desk, and opened a small metal box. "Only got one."

The hunters looked at each other. Jonquil spoke. "How many beds?"

"Two." The old man eyed the three young people warily.

"We'll take it." Dean reached into his pocket to pay the fee.

"I need twenty more dollars."

The hunters frowned. "Why?"

The old man looked at Jonquil. "Parties over two in a two bed room require a bed repair deposit. Don't break the bed; get your twenty dollars back."

Dean unwillingly pulled out twenty more dollars. He grunted. "No worries there. Trust me."

"Not my business," the old man said taking the money. He gave the three a sharp look as he handed Dean the key.

The three hunters walked away from the brightly lit stand and headed toward to the room. Sam looked up to the corner of the second floor. In gold numbers against the brown door, _206_. They made their way upstairs.

Jonquil placed her bag at the foot of the bed closest to the bath room. Dean shut the door as Sam turned on the lamp in between the beds.

The three hunters stared at each other for a moment. Jonquil turned to look at the old clock that hung on the wall.

"It's a quarter past twelve. What do you guys want to do?"

"I think we should go over everything. And I mean everything," Sam said.

Sam glanced at Dean, whose stern face had not changed while they walked. He glanced back at Jonquil.

"Agreed then. We'll begin the discussion. If you've taken a look at the reports I've given you, there are numerous spikes of violence, out of nowhere quite honestly, that point to"—

"I didn't mean the reports you've printed." Sam's voice was irritated.

Jonquil's face darkened, a shadow that passed as quickly as it came. "What then, do you want?"

Sam shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips and a sarcastic chuckle leaving them.

"Do you really think you're in any position to ask questions?"

Jonquil turned to Sam. "_What is your problem?_ One minute you're all for me, the next you're ready to hang me. You're behaving ludicrously."

A wind seemed to pierce through the motel room. Dean turned to the window, peeking through the curtains. He frowned. He closed the window.

"There wasn't a storm before…" He muttered.

"I've actually noted the storm patterns around Nephi. They too have spi"—

"Enough with the damn case Jonquil! Why are we even here?"

This time, both Dean and Jonquil looked at Sam with confusion.

"Why _are_ you here? You don't have to be here. Why the hell would you ever choose this life?"

Jonquil's gaze at the already fuming Sam was deadly. But she contained herself.

"Sam, we came here because we agreed that"—

"I'm so tired of all this bullshit. Just give us a flat out answer. I'm tired of running around, order after order, not knowing why, just doing what's given. I'm so damn tired of it. First Dad, then Dean, now you."

Dean gave his brother a stern hard look. "What does Dad have to do with this?"

"He's always had to do with this! Hell, look around Dean, doesn't this feel familiar? The only reason we're stuck with her is because she needs to find our father! It's always been about him!"

"He did what was best for us, and followed through Sam. You know that…"

"Well, I'm sorry I can't play the good son. How the hell is that good parenting? Growing up in motels, shooting things, never having any friends!"

"Don't you dare say that about him."

"What, the truth?"

Jonquil had remained silent. Sam turned to her, rage in his eyes. "And you, why would you do this? I'm asking you again, why would you do this?"

"Because I want to, because I'm drawn to this, it draws me…"

"Ha," Sam threw his head back and laughed in mockery. "Because it draws you? Are you stupid? What did you give up for this? A warm bed, a family that loves you?"

Jonquil remained silent. She would not encourage his tirade. Dean glanced at her.

The wind blew and the walls seemed to rattle again. The lamp began to flicker. The hunters' attentions were shaken.

"I think we should get some rest," Jonquil said, ending the growing argument.

The boys stood silent, each seething in their own way. Jonquil grabbed her bag and moved past the cold hunters.

Jonquil turned under her sheets. The wind continued to howl outside. Dean slept on the other bed, legs crossed, still fully dressed.

Sam sat in the old worn ottoman in the corner. He glared at his brother and the girl. Once more the wind blew.

Somewhere within himself, Sam knew something was going on, something strange, something evil. He felt it working in his innards; in his mind and his heart. And the thought disgusted him. He normally would have kept these things to himself, but there was something in the air, it was making him act this way. Sam turned his gaze to the door, having the distinct feeling of being watched.

Alas, he was too late. As he stood up, the black mass that had been making its way under the door lurched at him at full speed. Sam's eyes widened as the amorphous smoke tunneled its way down his throat, and he couldn't make a sound.

He couldn't do anything. He had lost all control of his own body.

All he could do was watch helplessly as a profound weight seemed to suffocate him. The only thing that coursed through his veins now was rage. An unadulterated hate filled him, as the monster that had possessed him glared at the sleeping forms. He felt a wicked smirk grow on his face as he marched past the beds in a swift manner. He stopped in front of the door and glanced back.

As the door opened, Sam could only feel the tides of bloodshed that would occur if this demon had its way.


	14. She Was the Sun

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: Thanks to all who read and added this story to their alerts! Let's see who's boss...

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

A cold wind blew the door open further. Dean's brows furrowed; he was still sleeping. The wind's push made the door bang against the wall. His eyes opened immediately.

He looked around. Jonquil's sleeping form was hidden by the masses of covers on the other bed. Sam was not sleeping on the ottoman. Nor was he anywhere is in the visible part of the room. Dean got up softly. His footsteps made no noise on the carpeted floor. The bathroom was empty.

Where was he? Dean's initial instinct was panicked. He knew it had been a bad idea to go to sleep. He knew it. But his body would not heed his mind for once.

Dean looked around once more and turned to the open door. His eyes widened in disbelief and he shook his head. He stepped outside. Peering over the walkway, he looked down. Jonquil's truck was parked, but the Impala was not there.

This was not good.

"Close the door." Dean turned to Jonquil's voice. She was still under the covers.

"I'm leaving."

The girl bolted up. She appeared in a haze, but her eyes were sharp. "Excuse me?"

"I'm leaving. Sam's gone, he's taken the Impala, and something's gone wrong. I can't stay here. You can handle this shit yourself. I've said it all along."

"Let's really not go there right now. Close the door, damn it!" She shook with shivers.

Dean grabbed his duffel bag and shut the door behind him. Jonquil stared at the door. Her eyes glanced at the old clock on the wall. Two forty five. Her eyes remained on the clock, but she did not see the second hand move. It was as though time had stood still.

Jonquil froze. Realization dawned on her. She jumped out of the bed and ran out the room.

"Dean! DEAN! STOP!"

As he walked away, he turned to see Jonquil in an oversized Marine Corps shirt, blue flannel pants and white socks.

"This doesn't have to do with you anymore!"

"Yes, it does! Please come back!"

Dean kept walking. A minute later he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to meet Jonquil, who panted as she tried to keep up with his hurried pace.

"I told you to go. I can't help you anymore. Sam's gone."

"I know, I know. But there are two problems….Slow down!"

"There is only one problem and that is you. You made him go away, now I leave too. I have to find him."

"He's not a baby…"

"But you are. So go home, I don't have time to deal with you right now." He shook her off. Jonquil stood still and crossed her arms. She frowned.

"Tell me, where do you think you're going without a ride?"

Dean stopped. He turned with a frown, and his mouth oopen in a circle. He pursed his lips and looked at the parking lot.

"I can have any car I want. Now stop wasting my time."

"No. You're coming with me because it has to do with me."

"Not so sure about that." He smiled shaking his head, walking away.

"It was a demon Dean. It was Wrath."

He turned to her again, and neared her. "How do you know that? What? You saw it?"

"The clock was not moving. All the signs were nearing us. Nephi was hit, and it was moving downward."

"That doesn't mean anything."

Jonquil gave him hard eyes. He could not mask his denial. "You know it does."

Dean breathed hard, glancing between Jonquil and the surrounding cars. "Fine, fine. So he's possessed. You're sure it's by Wrath?"

"Did you not see how he was acting?"

Dean acknowledged this, but he also acknowledged that the same questions were stirring in him.

"Fine. Get your stuff."

Jonquil ran back upstairs and grabbed all her stuff. She looked around the room, making sure everything was gone.

Dean saw the girl in the oversized shirt head down the stairs, as he waited by the truck. Time was wasting. He saw that she turned to the main office and frowned.

He saw her bang on the window. Moments later, the old man showed up. Dean did not understand what was going on. He soon heard her voice, and the old man getting loud as well. They were gesturing to each other. What was going on?

As Dean made his way to the front desk, with an ever deepening scowl, he heard their argument more clearly.

"I need to check the beds then!"

"I don't have time for this old man. Give me the money!"

"Or what?"

Dean reached the front desk, in time to see Jonquil about to pull her piece out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Jonquil turned to Dean with a deranged look. "This fool's trying to keep the twenty. We didn't break the beds!"

"Forget the money and come!"

Dean grabbed Jonquil's arm, and pulled her away.

"What the hell was that?"

Dean looked at Jonquil warily as they headed toward the truck.

Jnquil slammed the door shut, and started up the engine. She revved up the truck and hit the gas. Dean glanced at the dashboard. She was doing far more than the recommend speed limit. Far more.

"What was what? Shut up man. Hit that button. I said hit the fucking button! We're gonna get Sam, so calm down."

Jonquil's eyes snapped at Dean's. He shrank back, mainly because the woman driving seemed raving mad, and partially because he wasn't sure what button she wanted him to hit.

Dean frowned suddenly. What was he doing cowering amidst books? From a little girl? Well, not a little girl…He smirked.

"I told you to hit the button…" Jonquil muttered. Her hand left the wheel and she hit the button.

"…_Down at the local Laundromat. I've done got wise, an' daddy ain't goin' for that…"_

Laundromat Blues crooned out from the antiquated system. Dean lifted a brow, eyes dubious. He glanced at Jonquil.

"You listen to the blues?"

"What? Can't believe it…."

"I can't believe you listen to music at all…"

"Why is that?" The car swerved and Dean shook. "Buckle up."

Dean straightened himself in the car seat. He shrugged. "I'll be fine. I mean, you don't look like the type to listen to anything. Much less blues."

"Too cool for me?"

"…Yeah. Had you out for classical or something. But I guess I don't really know. Didn't even think you were capable of pulling a gun out on an old man."

Dean looked at her and smirked. She grinned. "I'm not very agreeable when woken up. I must apologize for the scene. I'll be fine in another twenty minutes. Until then, blast my music, and shut up."

She looked at him and smiled. Dean did as he was told, with an amused look in his eyes, and a cocked brow.

Dean Winchester leaned back in his seat as the blues went on and Jonquil Salas' truck ate the road.

Blood filled Sam's vision. He could not help but watch every thing the demon had done. He set fire to a gas station, with people in it. He had committed murder, most unwillingly. And the monster within him was waiting it knew that Dean would not be far behind, and Jonquil would be tailing along as well. The time for their deaths would come soon.


	15. Clausterphobia and Bad Company

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: THANK YOU! thank you for holding on for this. Been pretty busy and hit a few blocks of the writing kind...But yeah! To anyone else who has read, added this to their alerts, or decided to give this a shot, thanks! As for this chapter: Closed spaces, Jonnie, and Dean...

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Dean and Jonquil had passed a drive-thru for breakfast. Dean moved a book out of the way of the cup holder. He placed his coffee in it. As he took a bite of his bacon egg and cheese, he spoke.

"So, how are you so sure he's going north?"

"Didn't you see the fire in the gas station before we hit Nephi? Besides, if this is Wrath, it's going to tear up"—

"How do you know though?" Dean wiped his mouth.

Jonquil took a sip from her orange juice, glancing at Dean. "It's all we have to go on, unless you have any better ideas…."

Dean pursed his lips and turned. "All I know is that …"

Dean's eyes lit up. He patted himself, and looked around the crowded space. "Where's my duffel bag?"

"It should be by your feet. If not, it's in the cab. Why?"

"My cell phone. There's about three or more phones in my car. Including Sam's. There's GPS on them. I'll call to find out.

Dean dialed the phone company's number and requested the location of his phone. He wrote down the coordinates and hung up. Jonquil glanced at him.

"Well?"

"He's heading up to Salt Lake."

Jonnie caught the restrained panic in Dean's eyes. "We'll get there before he can do any serious damage. I promise."

Dean stared at Jonnie for a moment. She held his gaze. "I promise, okay?"

"He already burned down the gas station."

Jonquil gave him a hard look, and shifted the gear to 4. "I said I promise. Understand this about me Dean, the little that you may, I follow through with a promise. Always."

Dean looked at Jonquil, she was resolute. She pressed on the gas. The two hunters rode away in silence.

After having put some distance behind them, silence still ensued. Dean shifted in his seat, feeling awkward in the silence. It was not comfortable; he was not used to this.

Dean grunted. Jonnie glanced at him.

"Yes," she said.

"So…your dad was in the Marines?"

Jonquil glanced back at him, frowning. Dean gestured at her shirt.

"My boyfriend gave it to me."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"You sound surprised." Jonnie smirked at Dean. He was intrigued.

"Well, you know, you just don't look like"—

"There's a lot you don't know about me Dean. But don't fret, we're not together anymore."

"_That's_ not surprising. You're an annoying ungrateful bitch."

Jonnie glared at him. "I left him. He was crazy. He was in the service for almost ten years."

"Ten years?"

"Yeah. He had about ten years on me. He was about your age, I was seventeen. But that was three years ago."

Dean grimaced for a moment. Then he frowned. "I thought you said you were nineteen. Kept bitching about it…"

Jonquil glowered at Dean. "I was. Until the other day. You remember, the day when everything went horribly wrong? You guys abandoned me, I almost got raped, and my car broke down, Sam spazzed on me? Yeah. _Happy fucking birthday_."

"Oh." Dean looked out the window, feeling kind of bad for the girl. He tried suppressing a smile, because although her day had been completely shitty, it was kind of funny.

"Worst birthday of my life."

"Plenty more to come Jonnie. Don't worry about that…" Dean said. His face fell for a moment, as he recalled the birthdays he'd spent alone. Well, in the hands of company, but still alone, as good as a time he might have had. He smiled again and turned to her. "How about a drink?"

"Well," Jonquil squinted, as the sun got in her eyes. "It's not even midday, and I'm twenty, not twenty one. Besides, I'm not wasting my money on liquor."

"Your loss. I was treating you. Could've had a good time. You're with Dean Winchester now."

She turned to his smirking face. He winked. Jonnie gave him a flat look and shook her head.

"I'm good. Besides, we need to get to your brother."

Dean bit the inside of his mouth, and his jaw clenched. He had momentarily forgotten why he was in her car in the first place. He was letting himself enjoy her company, something he did not think he could do, much less in such a trying situation. He was slowly beginning to let himself go around her. True that it was mostly teasing, and her attitude was quite serious around it, it seemed that she too was enjoying their banter, or else, Dean had a feeling that she would have said or done something about it. He frowned, as he felt something strange in the pit of his stomach.

Jonquil continued driving in the quiet of the car, whatever blues song was playing softly in the background had filled the space of her conversation with Dean. She gave him a sidelong glance. He was frowning, as he picked up a book. It suddenly struck her that this was the look of his general disapproval, usually at whatever she had said or done. He put the book down, and picked up an older book on the dashboard.

With a puckered brow, Dean coughed, skimming through the pages.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jonquil saw it. She grinned; he looked like a little boy.

"Be careful. That's a first edition book. Nineteenth century."

Dean gave her a scowl, hearing the smile in her voice. "Why the hell do you have so many books? It's like a library in here…"

"My professor. This was how he used to teach me about hunting."

"Books? No wonder you're a crappy hunter."

Jonnie gave Dean a dirty look.

"He taught me a lot. He died…" Jonquil paused for a moment. "He died before he could perfect me."

Dean looked at her, guardedly. "He was out to make you the perfect hunter?"

Jonquil shrugged. "Something like that. I didn't really care to be perfect, I just wanted to learn, and that's how I met him in the first place. He was my World Lit professor freshman year. After that, I was always reading his little assignments he had for me, things like that. Eventually, we did some field training…"

A wistful smile appeared on her lips. She let out a laugh. "He was always on my case—_you're going to get us killed, be careful, you need to shape up_. And I always chalked it up to his lack of field practice. I mean, what the hell is the point of teaching me about a bunch of shit that's killed by swords, crossbows, things of that nature, when you're not even going to let me learn how to use them?"

Dean watched Jonnie as she spoke. He wasn't particularly keen on how her roots in hunting seemed like a scholastic venture, rather than something that came out of need, out of tradition, out of something more basic. He frowned.

"My father had us learning since I was six. But not like this. Nothing like this…"It seemed artificial and unnatural to him. He was a bit repulsed by it. He dropped the book.

Jonnie noted the disgust in his voice and her smile faltered. "What? Is there something wrong with learning this way?"

"I didn't say that." Dean did not want to talk about the fact that he didn't like this.

Jonquil pursed her lips, and decided not to pursue an argument. Now was not the time. Dean seemed to agree, as his pensive gaze found itself out the window.

The road to Salt Lake was quiet. There was tension in the car, and it ran deep. Jonquil cleared her throat.

"So…"

Dean glanced her way.

"You got any other family?"

"Nope. Everyone you met."

He didn't sound enthusiastic. She felt as if she shouldn't probe about his mother. He remained silent. It was beginning to annoy her. She wanted to talk to him, form some kind of relationship, to fill some void. But part of her knew it was in vain. Dean didn't care about making friends with her, she was a hindrance; his brother and father were his focus. Then why pursue this?

She decided to remain silent, while Dean continued to give an angry empty stare to the road before them. But ten minutes of silence were killing her.

"You know, I'm trying Dean. I really am. You don't have to be my best friend, hell, you don't even have to like me. But could you not be such a jerk when I'm trying to get to know you? We're working together, and I'm tired of this always being a test for me. I want to ask the questions."

Dean turned to her slowly, and Jonquil suddenly wished she kept the words locked in her mouth. There was an irritated look in his eyes, and something warned her she had gone too far.

Before Dean could open his mouth, she turned up the music and sped down the road. Mistakenly, she thought that would get her away from him.


	16. A Drink Between Friends

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Happy New Years! And happy holidays! Thank you all who have read! Sorry it's been so long. Chp 17 will be up in a few days, so stay a while. :] Hope you all enjoy some quality time between Jonnie and Dean.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Dean was discovering more and more how less and less he was enjoying his little trip with Jonquil.

He breathed in sharply and his gaze focused on the road. He was becoming very restless. The sun was not far from setting, and they had skipped lunch. He wasn't hungry, but being in this car that smelled of musty old books, and whenever Jonquil moved, to his dismay, he smelled the crisp clean scent of whatever she used to shower. And he did not want her scent to be imprinted in his mind.

He moved again, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jonnie's hands tighten around the wheel.

He needed a side hunt. Anything.

"Are you still on for that drink Dean?"

Dean frowned, his eyes snapping to her. "What?"

"I said are you still willing to buy me that drink?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Right now."

The pickup made a sharp turn and they headed into the closest exit. Surely, it would not take too long to find a bar.

They were driving quickly, and Dean noted how tense Jonnie was. Her eyes were narrowed, as if to keep the sun from her eyes, but there was no sun to do such things.

"That one." Dean saw a bar, and pointed to it. Seconds later they came to a halt. Jonquil was frozen.

"What?"

"I can't drink and drive."

Dean gave her an exasperated look, and reached for the keys.

"No, but I can. Come on."

He pulled them out of the ignition, while he leaned over Jonnie's lap; he noticed the blood on the tie. He frowned. It wasn't as though it was soaked in blood, but there was dried blood on the fringes, the color of mahogany earth.

Jonquil shifted under him, and he realized the compromising position he was in. He wanted to give her a grin, but the blood and the tension were not helping. Jonnie herself seemed a bit at odds with the situation. He quickly pocketed the keys and moved away.

He cleared his throat as the girl undid her seatbelt. She caught his eyes. "You ready?"

"It's not a mission. Let's go."

The sharp sound of pool balls crashing into each other broke over the faded rock song playing in the back ground. Jonnie looked up at the fairly crowded bar. In the dimly lit booth she played with a nickel she had found on the table when she had sat down.

She breathed in deeply. She wanted to address the problem, if she only knew what the problem was. Dean was not easy to deal with. A loud clunk on the table stole Jonquil's attention. Dean sat down across from her.

"Here's your drink. To start you off easy, here's a beer. If you can finish that, then we'll talk about liquor."

Dean slid the pint of beer to Jonnie. She stared at the topaz colored liquid with apprehension. Dean watched her.

"It's not light if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't care about light. I care about how it tastes," she said looking up at him. Dean paused, and then took a drink of his own beer.

"It isn't gonna bite you. Try some."

Jonquil stared at it. She inhaled and closed her eyes.

"Jesus Christ," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. "Would you just drink it already?"

"I don't drink beer."

"But you've never had it before."

"I tried Heineken once. It was awful. I thought you were gonna get me a shot of gin."

Dean's face fell flat, and he half resisted the urge to strike Jonnie with the beer glass. However, half of him was pleased she was willing to try such a shot. He smirked.

"Well, like I said, finish your beer, and you can get a shot."

"I don't know if that's"-

"Drink the damn beer already!"

Jonquil frowned intensely for a moment, like a scolded child, and grabbed the beer. She proceeded to drink it in a barbaric manner—without stopping for air. Dean was taken aback, and quite sure she was going to choke. When the glass was empty, Jonnie slammed it on the table frowning, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and burped. Dean was in shock, eyes wide, lips half parted, not sure whether he should kiss her or applaud her.

"Shot now please."

Dean smirked at her. "As you wish."

As Dean got up to get her the shot, Jonnie shuddered. She hated beer. It tasted like hops and barley and she did not want that taste in her mouth.

"Here's your shot."

Jonquil took it without caution. A mistake she regretted as soon as she finished. She cringed in pain, as the alcohol seared her throat.

"Sonuvabitch this burns!" She shouted, coughing, head on the table, shaking her head.

Dean laughed. "That's a good girl. Didn't think you had it in you. I guess I was wrong."

Jonquil was still coughing. She looked up at Dean, who was grinning at her.

"This isn't funny, I hope you know."

"Next time, we'll get you something else." Dean laughed a bit more at Jonquil.

Jonnie stopped coughing, and leaned back in the booth, wondering if there would be a next time.

The booth grew quiet. Jonnie focused her attention on the salt and pepper, and Dean's eyes steadied on his beer glass. He held it in his hands, not speaking.

The outside world grew to a faint hum. None dared lift their eyes. Jonquil coughed. Dean glanced up at her.

"Still recovering?"

"Yeah…Still a lightweight, I suppose."

Dean grinned faintly, "You're pretty good for a lightweight."

Jonquil caught his gaze. She smirked. "Well, I'm just getting started. And I don't just mean with drinks."

"And I didn't say I meant anything else. You're a crap hunter."

"But I'm not a fully fledged hunter yet. I'm in training."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "This isn't girl scouts. You don't get a badge when you kill your first monster. There are no cookies to sell. It's not a game."

Jonquil frowned, knowing it would somehow come to this. "Then why don't you teach me? You don't seem to approve of me, no matter what I"—

"I'm not your teacher, I'm not your father and I'm not your friend."

"What does that have to do with anything? Why did you bother to save me, come with me? Help me? What the hell?"

"I didn't want to save you, and you decided to come along. I never asked to help your sorry ass out. Bobby told me to. Sam told me to. You asked me to. And now you want to"—

Jonquil stood up and walked out of the booth. The sound of the rest of the bar crashed upon her ears as she pushed the doors open.

Dean was incensed. What had he done to her? Nothing! And this is how she reacts. The conversation always seemed to turn into a direction neither of them wanted it to go. Essentially, it was the question of their partnership. Why bother? All she wanted was their father. All he wanted was his father, and as of late, his brother too. And saving her? Those strange feelings from before, Dean decided, were moral prodding and hunger. He hadn't eaten, and he was going to feel bad if he let her die. She wasn't evil. Irritating and clearly in the wrong profession, yes, but she was not evil.

So maybe they were in it for the same. Dean did not want to press his mind, and wanted to calm down. He took a good swig of his beer and headed over to play pool with the locals. He did need to make some cash…

Jonquil had been slumped against the side of her truck for the last half hour. She had forgotten Dean had taken the keys from the car. She was indignant. She would not dare to enter that bar to get her keys back. She remained waiting, as the night wore on, and she grew sleepy.

Footsteps roused her from the lure of slumber, as she quickly realized sleeping in a bar parking lot was a bad idea.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here."

Jonquil turned to the familiar voice. It was Sam. There was blood on his shirt, and his hands wore gloves of the lives of others. Once more, she cursed Dean for taking the keys.

She tried to break the car door window, but the glass would not crack. Sam neared her, each step deliberate and slow.

"You know Jonnie, I don't play well with others, but I've gotta say, putting my brothers and sisters away before I could roughhouse with them for a bit? Not nice. But then again, neither am I. My father says if you don't get us rounded up, he's going get you, right?"

"I have no time to fool around with you."

"Oh, but you do. You see, while you and Dean are out grabbing drinks, I'm piling up a body count. How many now?" Sam paused to count on his bloodied fingers.

"One, two…four….seven…Aww hell! I lost count!" Sam shrugged and smiled as he moved closer to her. "And soon I'll have you and the other Winchester. My brothers and sisters are going to have a grand time."

Jonquil cried out in frustration, trying to get anything on the truck to move, but it was stuck solid.

"WAKE UP! HEY, WAKE UP!"

A voice shook Jonquil from her sleep. Dean stood over her frowning. She frowned back, looking at her surroundings, disoriented. She placed her hands on the firm ground beneath her, paved gravel. She slowly rose to meet Dean's suspicious and wary eyes.

"What the hell's the matter with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why were you sleeping in the parking lot? You want to die?"

She glowered. "You had the keys to the car."

He frowned at her as he helped her get up. "And you didn't come in and get them?"

"I wanted to avoid killing people," she said with a glare, pushing him away.

Dean frowned. "You're cute if you think you could have killed me."

"I never said you. Now drive," she said stepping aside of the car door. He glared at her.

When they got in the car, Dean could not help but notice the blood tinged tie hanging on the rearview mirror. He glanced at Jonquil, who was slowly falling asleep again. Her breathing became slower, and her frame relaxed as she moved toward the door, finding a comfortable position. She looked pretty, the waves of her dark hair curling around her face, the fading frown on her brow... Dean coughed, catching himself—she was not that pretty.

He drew his attention to the tie again. And he wondered why it was there. He remembered she said her professor had died ….but she never said why…

They pulled up to a motel and he woke her.

"Hey…Jonquil. Jonquil, get up." She moved, turning away from his voice.

"Jonnie. We're here." He frowned. He tried being nice. He really did. He honked the horn. She jumped, and a few books fell into her lap from the dashboard. She looked crazed, and Dean held his laughter. No, that was a lie. He laughed at her.

"Stop. Stop laughing at me. I'm too tired to deal with your shit right now," Jonquil said as she got out of the car. She held her books up and shoved them onto the dashboard. She glared at Dean as she opened the car door.

"Hey, I tried," Dean said with a smile.

"Try harder next time."


	17. Ring of Gyges Revisited

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thanks to everyone who read, those who added this story to their alerts, favorites and **Kinthinia** for reveiwing! Things get bloody. Oh yeah. Welcome home Sam.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

"Up Sunshine! We've got some ass to kick!"

Dean frowned as light flooded through his eyelids. He felt the covers being pulled off his legs. He squinted, frowning.

Jonquil smiled at him, her hair tied back in a messy bun, the gunshot enthusiasm he had seen in her a few times alive again. It seemed she restrained her excitement. Dean wondered why. He also wondered why this girl was putting him through all this so early in the morning.

"I bought you some coffee and a bagel! Hurry before it gets cold!"

"Who dumped rainbow shitting bunnies in your juice today?" Dean groaned as he stretched. Jonquil turned away.

"No one." She turned back and handed him his breakfast. He frowned and looked up at her. He took his breakfast from her. He looked at her strangely before taking a bite out of his bagel.

"What? I can't get you breakfast?"

Dean said nothing, but still looked at her warily. Jonquil stared at him and her jaw locked. She said nothing and turned back to her belongings.

"What?" Dean grunted. He stood up. He didn't take a bite of the bagel.

"We have to get going. Sam is going to be on a murder spree if we don't stop him. I'll wait for you in the car," she said as she headed toward the door. "And the bagel isn't poisoned."

Dean watched as the door slammed behind her.

"I just don't get you." He took a bite of the bagel, sighing.

Jonquil leaned against the truck, a book open while chewing on a long stick of jerky. The door open and she glanced up.

Dean met her gaze. "You ready or what?"

She shut the book and headed toward the door. Dean noted the serious and determined look on her face.

The engine growled, waking from its slumber. The truck was silent. Dean shifted. He glanced at Jonquil.

"I guess I shot your bunnies then?"

"Let's just get this done."

"I guess we can finally agree on something. Where'd you get the jerky from?"

As she pulled out from the parking lot, she broke the stick in half and handed the part to Dean, eyes on the road ahead.

"Check out your GPS again. I want to catch him with the blood on his hands."

Sam's eyes couldn't stand the blood anymore. Wrath pulsed through his veins, and all he could feel was the anger he had for himself, for everyone. And now there was nothing that could stop him.

The blood that soaked his hands rinsed off in the white porcelain sink of the motel. Sam could not look at himself in the mirror. All he saw in his eyes was evil, darkness, and a wicked disgusting smirk on his lips. He could not believe those people were dead—the gas station set afire, the old couple down the road, the diner, and now the man at the front desk of the motel—Sam was sure the motel would be a feast of blood tonight. He could probably stay here for a bit.

"Stop trying Sam. This was in your blood. Don't you know? What possesses you is what you have inside. I'm just putting the beat of your heart on loudspeaker kid. Say thank you. You'll never get caught."

Wrath smiled, and Sam wanted to kill himself.

There was a knock on the door.

Sam's heart stopped—more blood to sully his hands.

"Room service!" a female voice called out.

Wrath smiled as he made his way out of the bathroom and headed toward the bed. He grabbed the knife that lay unsharpened on the bed.

"Coming!" he said.

He opened the door and saw a familiar face. Jonnie and Dean. Gun in hand rosary on the side.

"I thought you'd never come…"

Jonnie kicked Sam out of the doorway back into the room and Dean shot him in the arm with a salt round. Sam stood right up after stumbling down.

"Is that all you've got? You're going to need more if you think that will get that chain around my neck Jonquil. And Dean….don't you remember whose body this is?"

Dean gritted his teeth. The demon was right. Jonquil flew at Wrath from the side, and he swung her into the wall. Dean charged at him, and Wrath jabbed at him with the knife. He cried out in a spasm of pain. He got up and swung at Sam. It was as if nothing. Sam lifted Dean by the neck.

"Come on now Dean! I thought you were smarter than that. And you"—

Sam's eyes went black and Jonnie was pressed further into the wall. He flung Dean across the room—he crashed into the furniture that filled the room.

"Let go of me! Sam! You've got to fight this! Agh!" Jonquil cried out.

"Sam's gone sweetheart. Keep screaming though—it's my favorite kind of music!"

Jonquil's chest was heaving, as the pressure around her chest increased. She was gasping for air.

Suddenly she fell. Wrath screamed demonically. Dean had staggered forward and placed a rosary around Sam's neck.

"_Malicio_!" Dean said anger in his eyes.

Jonquil fell from the wall, and air flooded her.

"Say it Jonnie! Say it now!"

Jonquil crawled toward the bag near the door, catching her breath. She opened the cradle and held out the vial.

"You think you can stop me? This is not the last you'll see of me! I promise you!," Wrath screamed.

"_Ex Vitium vos erant pario, per Rectum vos es reus_."

Sam's head flew back and black smoke tunneled out of his mouth and dove straight into the vial. Jonnie capped it, and immediately placed in the Cradle.

Sam's body fell limp, and Dean held him up. He flinched as he brought his brother's arm around his neck, and walked to the bed.

"Sam, Sammy, wake up. It's me, it's Dean. Come on, wake up."

Jonquil got up, and made her way to the bed. Dean didn't notice. She saw the blood on his side, and the blood on Sam's shoulder. She too tasted the metallic copper liquid on the edge of her lips.

"Dean. Dean."

Dean didn't look up from his little brother. She touched his forehead. He was too warm.

"Dean, you've got to get out of here. Take Sam, put him in the truck. Drive away. Get out of Utah as fast as you can. I'll ditch the plates, and clean the place up. It's the one thing I'm good at. Please. Go. Get to a motel as fast as you can. Clean him up."

"I've got to do it now. He'll get worse if I don't, then"—

"Dean, go."

Dean looked up, eyes resolute and full of worry. His intentions were clear.

"Please. Listen to me Dean. Get out of Utah. Head east. Head to Jersey. We'll go home for a bit. Please just listen to me."

Dean frowned and nodded. He lifted his brother and headed toward the door.

"He left the keys on the bed. Plates are in the dashboard. Call when you're out of here."

Jonquil nodded and headed toward the men. She opened the door and walked out with the Winchesters. She opened the passenger door and helped Dean get Sam in. She once more, she saw the blood on Dean's side.

"I'll be fine," he said. She glanced at him and the wound again. He held his hand out for the key.

She handed him the keys. "They'll be after him. Be careful. Don't stop."

He nodded and looked her straight in the eye. "Are you sure you can clean all this up?"

"Believe me, this is nothing." Jonnie smiled weakly.

Dean looked at her for a moment more and opened the driver's door.

Jonquil did not wait to see them go, and headed toward the front desk. There was no one. Only blood. Splattered all over the wall. She sighed.

It was time to break in and clean up the motel. As if Sam was never there. As if they were never there. But she was sure there were going to be deaths unaccounted for. A wave of shame and guilt washed over her as she stepped into the blood soaked room. She saw the mangled corpses of the owner of the motel and cleaning lady in the corner. She headed toward the window and drew the blinds.

"Clean up cleanup…everybody repress your share…"she hummed as she made her way toward the cleaning supply closet.

Repress. Repress the fact that if her professor hadn't died, and she hadn't met the Winchesters, these deaths wouldn't have happened. Repress the turning her stomach made at the fact she had to clean up the bodies of innocent people, act as if this wasn't a big deal, as if there wasn't something innately wrong with it—the deaths, the cleaning, the acting like this didn't affect her…But overall, repressing the fact that she knew it was all her fault.

Who would save her?


	18. Grab Your Guns

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thanks to everyone who read, those who added this story to their alerts, favorites and **Kinthinia** for reveiwing! The wait is over-cue the singing frogs and dancing sea creatures. Dean and Jonnie get personal. Things will fly.

Hope you all enjoy this one. It's a fistful of drama. It's been long and waiting.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Five hours driving, no stopping. Silence filled the car. The occasional groan from Sam and his faint breathing were the only sounds Dean heard.

Three hours ago, Jonquil called. She said she cleaned it up, gave no details. Her voice was detached, not that he noticed—his brother's condition had him in limbo. He gave her the road they were driving down. It seemed endless. He wanted to know when to stop.

He called Jonquil.

"We're in Wyoming"

"Get in deeper. No stopping yet."

"I'm stopping. He needs help."

Night had already fallen when Jonquil parked the Impala in the Firelodge Inn, beside the green familiar truck.

She headed toward room number 16 on the opposite side of the motel. She knocked twice. Warm light flooded her feet as Dean opened the door. He had been tending his brother for the last hour and a half, trying to get his fever down, removing the bullet stitching him up. He stepped aside, letting her enter the room. He locked it behind her.

Jonquil dropped her coat beside Dean's on the chair. She turned her attention to Sam, who seemed to be muttering in delirium. He lay on the bed, a second skin of thin sweat glazing him. She touched his forehead; he was burning.

"I cleaned up the bullet wound…But the fever still hasn't gone down." There was something in Dean's voice Jonnie recognized. Blame.

"Remember Dean, you don't know what else he had gone through before you shot him."

There was something sharp in his eyes when he looked at her. "You promised we'd be there before he could do more harm."

"I know. But he's here now. And you're still bleeding."

Dean glared at her, approaching Jonnie with accusatory eyes. "And he may be dying."

"Do you want to take him to the hospital? Let him sweat it out. I have some pills for the fever and the pain. Did you give him any?"

"Been watching him. Trying to cool him down."

She headed to her duffel bag and withdrew a bottle of water and a small vial of pills. She went to Sam and held his head up.

"Sam, Sam…Come on, help me out here…" She tried to get his mouth open, get him to swallow the medicine. He did weakly.

"Jessica…" he mumbled a name.

Jonquil placed him down. Dean had his arms crossed. Jonquil stood up to face him.

"Are you going to let me help you?"

"Help me with what?"

"Dean. You're still bleeding. You need to clean it, and I don't want you straining yourself. You already have…"

Sam breathed. A true breath. Then he collapsed. They finally got to him.

When he finally came around, he heard loud voices. Everything was warm, too warm, and he could feel the sweat on his body trying to cool him down. But everything felt lost—all was lost in a foggy haze of soft amber lights and warmth.

He wanted to move, but he couldn't even get his eyes open. He heard a voice close to him; it was a girl's voice. He heard it before. She spoke softly, and tried to lift his head. His dry lips soon were met by cool water, and some things, but he didn't know what it was. He was sure it was her. He heard her voice…

"Jessica…" He managed to say weakly. The presence beside him soon left.

In between the delirium of fever and what was going on outside he heard the voices get louder again. They were arguing. His brother and someone else. Jonquil. Her. They were always arguing.

"…If you hadn't…" Dean's voice grew tense.

"I don't want to…But you already…" Jonnie's voice was fading in and out of Sam's consciousness.

"Why is there blood…?" Dean's tone became spiteful.

"…He tried…and now it's after me…told you this…"

"…not everything…you hide things like…"

"…it was me, are you happy now...wanted to hear?" She was provoked and it was too late.

Sam tried to open his eyes; he saw the ever blurring figures of Dean and Jonquil, each in a battle stance, ready to strike at each other, antagonizing the other endlessly. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. The argument grew louder and more heated when Sam heard something break and a few seconds later the door slam shut. The room was dead silent.

"Is that what you wanted to hear, that it was me? Are you happy now?" Jonquil yelled in anger. It was all rising in her now. It was too late.

Dean's jaw tensed, he could not contain his rage at her. "You hide things like that from us and expect me to help you? Look where you got Sam. Look at him!"

"I didn't do that to him! I didn't! You think I wanted all this?"

"You think you're going to get my father to help you? There's no way in hell I'm letting you"—

"What? You think I'm going to kill him too? I'm not the reason he's gone am I? I'm not the only one with daddy issues Dean! Or did you fail to hear your brother?"

That was it for Dean. He couldn't take anything anymore. The world was splintering around him all at once, far too fast. He threw the gun on the bed against the wall, crashing into a glass clock that shattered into pieces. And that was it for Jonquil.

Dean was still fuming and she was in shock. She shook her head as realization sunk in for him. Jonquil was furious and in disbelief. She couldn't believe this, and she would not stand for it. She made her way straight to the door and slammed it behind her.

Dean remained facing the wall where Jonquil once stood and the clock once hung. He couldn't believe he had reacted that way.

"God what did I do?" Dean gripped his hair in frustration. He yelled in aggravation. He kicked the wall.

"Dean…" Sam mumbled in his haze.

Dean could barely hear his brother over his own ranting, stuck somewhere between the rash comment Jonquil made, who was wrong and who was right, and above all, his violent outburst.

"Dean!" Sam managed to muster. Dean spun to his brother, a worried look scrawled across his face.

"Sammy! You're up! You need anything? Don't force yourself to talk…"

Sam rolled his eyes weakly and shook his head. "Dean. Stop being a bitch. Tell her you like her."

Dean's jaw dropped. "What?"

"You heard me…arguing all the time…trying to hate her. Stop bullshitting yourself Dean. Kiss her already."

Dean stared at his brother. Sam stared back at him with whatever strength he had, giving him a tired knowing look.

"What did she give you?"

There was a knock on the door. Dean glanced at it and back at Sam who quickly closed his eyes, feigning slumber. Dean frowned and pursed his lips.

_Of course Sam fell asleep now_, Dean thought_, that lying sonuvabitch_.

The knocking persisted. Dean headed toward the door and opened it. With a cross look in her eye Jonnie Salas stood in the doorway. She glared at him and looked pointedly at her duffel bag. His expression seemed to indicate he did not care of her belongings. Jonquil narrowed her eyes at him, furious at his gall.

"Dean Winchester, I do not know who you think you were talking to, but your actions were completely unacceptable and out of line. I will not take such barbaric actions from you or any man. I come here only to"—

In mid preamble, Dean grabbed Jonnie around the waist. He pulled her in and gave her a long sweltering kiss. At least he tried to.

Jonquil was completely caught off guard—she hadn't noticed the darkness that befell Dean's green eyes as she spoke, how intent they were on her lips, and his own lips, how they had curved awaiting hers.

However, the initial shock wore off in a matter of .5 seconds, and Jonnie immediately pushed him off, her hands pushing at his chest, which to her dismay felt quite nice under her touch, but alas, even that did not stop her. She gave him one final hard push, and it was off with Dean's kiss.

Jonquil was enraged, her eyes ablaze with incredulity. Dean's mouth was parted, as he breathed heavily. He grabbed his side.

"What the hell was that?" Jonquil cried.

Dean just shook his head, eyes wide at his own actions again; his hands came up empty by his shoulders. What had he been thinking?

"I…I… I was just trying something…"

"This is not some damn _novela_. You don't throw something at me, I storm away and come back and fall into your arms! What the hell? You're just becoming more absurd by the second! I don't even know what to make of you anymore! Why? Why the hell would you"—

"Look. I don't want to fight anymore. Just come in, go to sleep. We'll go to Jersey tomorrow. Can you just shut up tonight and get in bed?"

He winced as he made his final entreaty. Jonquil's lips pursed in a hard line. She looked at Dean. His stone jade eyes were sincere and she realized he was still wearing a bloodied shirt.

She looked at he own hands, realizing they were freshly colored red, in Dean's blood this time.

Her mouth quickly drew into a circle, as she realized she pushed him in the site of injury. Then she frowned. She said nothing and entered the room. Dean let out a sigh and rolled his eyes at her.

"You know, if you just would have let me take care of that before, it wouldn't be this way now."

"Mother of God," Dean muttered. "Go to sleep woman. I'll fix it myself."

Jonquil glared at him and grabbed her duffel bag. He frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"To shower. I've been cleaning dead body parts and blood all day. Or would you rather I not, your highness, my lord, dearest ruler Dean?" She brushed past him and curtsied as she turned to the bathroom.

A minute later the water was running. Dean headed toward the supplies he had out by Sam's bed. Sam opened one eye and grinned. Dean fought the grin. He spoke first.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Dean lay awake in bed, Jonquil resting beside him, despite her better judgment she was sure. She had wanted him to use the bed, as he was injured, but he assured her he'd be alright, she could share with him. There was something tired in her eyes, and something that understood, that finally relinquished the arguing…at least for that night. So she got in bed, and quickly confined herself to a corner.

Of all the things that were running through his mind, there was only one thing that made him frown as he realized it. Jonquil had driven his car.


	19. A Disturbance in the Waters

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thanks to everyone who read, those who added this story to their alerts, favorites and **Kinthinia** for reveiwing! Things get awkward for the kids.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

Jonquil felt heavy pressure across her shoulders. She frowned, and her eyes shot open. There was an arm across her shoulder, a man's arm. The frowned deepened when she realized it was Dean's arm. He lay asleep beside her, face at an upward angle tilted toward his brother's bed.

As Jonquil carefully placed Dean's arm beside him again, she looked at him. He looked like a little boy, as if he hadn't slept in such a long time, and finally he had gotten some rest. She chastised herself for such foolish eye for detail. This was not important. She was only three sins and four weeks away from getting rid of Vice, and soon, she could go back to training.

Yes, repress, repress even these foolish feelings that bubbled up in her stomach. They were only ideas, foolish figments of her imagination; Dean's kiss was a rash action that she could not accept, even if she did have feelings for him. Which she didn't.

Jonquil crept toward Sam's bed, as she realized more pressing matters should concern her—even more pressing than her own life, which was Sam's. She put a hand against his head. He was no longer febrile. She checked the wound, and it was less inflamed, but she still wanted him to recover a bit more. But the road back home was calling.

When Jonquil returned to the motel with breakfast for the Winchesters, she found a dressed Dean Winchester helping his brother up. Both brothers turned to her in surprise. Clearly, as an understood rule, the occurrences of the night before would not be mentioned. For the life of them. Jonquil cleared her throat and Dean and Sam looked back at each other.

"I got breakfast…Sam, how are you feeling?" She placed the food on the table.

"I'm better…,"Sam paused flinching. "Much better."

"Well don't worry. I don't want to head out until you're better."

"But I am."

"For once Sam, I agree with Jonnie. Let's wait it out for a day."

Both Sam and Jonquil turned to Dean in surprise. Sam knew this was not in his nature; Jonquil knew he never approved of her.

"What?" He asked. "The fever's gone, but you're still not ready to be up and running."

"How long is the trip from here to where we're going next?" Sam slowly got up, pushing Dean aside.

"About a day and a half if we don't stop. With stops, probably two days and some change?" Jonquil said.

"I can make that. We can leave soon."

"Sam, as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, we should really wait it out. Besides, I want to make sure I have my leads right. Can you even shower?"

Sam glanced between Jonnie and Dean. He was surprised by this alliance that seemed to be forming. His brother wasn't quick to budge either. He frowned.

"Yes, I can. As a matter of fact I'll go do that right now."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked a concerned look in his eyes.

Sam brushed him aside. "My shoulder is slightly nicked. I'm not paralyzed from the neck down. I can bathe."

As Sam made his way to the shower Dean and Jonquil both stared at him. Straining, it would seem, to not have him leave their vision. However, as soon as the bathroom door closed, Jonquil turned to her duffel bag. As she opened it, Dean spoke.

"So…,"he cleared his throat. "You still have my keys."

"And you have mine."

"So you drove my car to get breakfast?"

"No. There's a diner not too far from here. I walked." She pulled the keys out of the pocket of the duffel bag.

Dean came in close to take the keys.

There was something in the air that made them feel uncomfortable. Jonquil had her hand out, avoiding Dean's gaze. He grabbed the keys without looking at her for too long.

Jonquil set up her laptop and began to do some research. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and began to sharpen his knives.

There was an awful silence between them. The only sound was the shower running from the bathroom.

Jonquil cleared her throat. Dean looked up at her. She turned to him.

"I'm sure that Envy is in New Jersey. As a matter of fact, the way that these demons have been moving, it makes sense that the next spot would be Jersey City."

Dean nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "So that's where we're headed next?"

Jonquil looked at him. "Yes."

Truth be told, Envy was not the only reason she was going to New Jersey. Part of her wanted to see her family. But another part didn't. She couldn't let her mother know she dropped out of college. This fall she should be a junior. But first, she would have to make sure she could stay, and bring the guys along.

Dean and Jonquil stared at each other for more than a minute.

The sound of the bathroom door opening broke the thick bizarre gazing.

"Am I interrupting something?" Sam glanced between them.

"No." Both hunters said adamantly, turning back to their duties.

"Just asking," Sam said nonchalantly, a slight grin on his face. Dean glanced up at him and frowned.

"Excuse me," Jonquil said as she closed her laptop. She stood up and headed toward the door.

"Where you going?" Sam asked as he toweled his wet hair.

"I have to make a call. Make sure we have some place to stay in Jersey." Jonquil stepped out. Sam turned to his brother.

"Dude! What was all that about?" Sam asked, smiling, as he threw the towel at Dean. Dean caught it with a frown.

"What was what?" Dean began to pack up his things.

"Uh, I don't know. The kiss last night, the weird staring…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dean. I was there. I saw you."

Dean looked at his brother. "Okay. So I kissed her. Not the first time I kiss a girl. Won't be the last. It was nothing."

"But…you like her don't you?"

Dean was about to speak when the door opened. Jonquil walked in, and sensed she too had been interrupting something.

"Are you guys ready?"

"Yeah," the brothers said in unison.

"Good. We should leave soon then, that is, if you're up for it. I would rather we watch you for a bit more before we got going," Jonquil looked at Sam.

"I said I'll be fine. If you want, we can wait till noon. Then we should get going. Which is where again?"

"Jersey City. We'll stay at my old apartment. Well, where I grew up."

The guys nodded. Sam spoke. "So your parents are going to let us stay?"

"Yeah," Jonquil answered somewhat out of ease. They both noticed.

"What?"

Jonquil turned to Dean. "Well, see, this whole hunting thing? My mom doesn't know about it. Actually, if she hears about it, she'll probably disown me. I had agreed with my professor we'd go and visit her. Of course, that is not possible, seeing as how he's buried in a field in Connecticut"—

"Wait, you dropped out of school and didn't tell your mom?" Sam's face was scrunched in incomprehension.

Jonquil remained silent. "No. But she's not paying for it. I am. I did rather. I did my scholarships. I had a part time job. And then…yeah. My professor had some cash saved up he gave me to help pay the school"—

"Was there something going on between you and your professor?"

Jonquil turned quick as a whip to Dean, something sharp and dangerous in her eyes. "Don't you dare insult me or my professor like that. He was more of a father to me than you could ever imagine."

Sam glanced quickly at Dean, who clearly realized he should have kept that thought silent.

"But either way, we'll be going and that's that. You two will have to pretend to be my professors. I've already made a bullshit excuse about why he can't show and you two can. So get with it."

The brothers looked at Jonquil as she gathered the rest of her stuff. "We can get going now if you want. I'll be putting things away"—

Jonquil stopped as her phone rang. She answered it. "Hello…"

She smiled and frowned, as the boys turned to their own stuff. Jonquil grabbed her bags and headed outside.

"Jadine…yeah. Yeah, sure bring Carolina along. Jourdain is coming? Is he bringing her? Ah."

Jonquil frowned. She continued talking to her sister, whom she hadn't heard from since she left New Jersey. In all fairness, she was away in the Navy. She walked to the other side of the motel and tried to open her truck door.

"Okay…Great! I'll be seeing you soon then. Uh…yeah. I'm bringing two of my professors along. Ha! Like we'd all fit in that little apartment. Okay, then maybe…I'll see you."

She hung up and banged herself against the door. Now it was a family reunion. And she didn't have the keys to her truck.


	20. One Tall Glass of Denial

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Everyone who has read this: Gracias for holding on! A special thank you to thos ewho have added this story to their favorites and alerts! Thanks for reading! Truth may shed a light on something that should be kept in the dark. The kids get even more awkward. Oh yeah! Good times.

* * *

Chapter Twenty

When Jonquil returned to the motel room, Sam and Dean were packed and just about ready to go. Dean noticed she still had the duffel bag.

"I thought you were putting it away."

"You still have my keys. Sam, are you sure you want to leave now?"

"Yeah, we should just go."

Sam gathered the rest of his belongings, as Dean fished the keys out of his jacket's pocket. He handed them to Jonquil. She took them without so much as looking at him. She had been avoiding his gaze, he noticed. Or when she did look at him, it was with a long hard stare.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." She wondered when she should tell them it was going to be a family reunion…

Sam looked up at her. There was something troubling her. Dean saw it too but decided not to press the matter.

"You sure?" Sam could not leave it alone.

She turned and smiled. "I am fine. Let's go."

The hunters had been on the road for ten hours already. The Winchesters followed the green truck in front of them without fail. Jonquil would call when it was time for a food break.

Inside the Impala, Dean kept his eyes on the road, occasionally switching the song. He hadn't said a real word to his brother, knowing there would only be two things to talk about: Jonnie or their father. And quite honestly, he didn't want to think about either of them at the moment.

"So…"

"So…"

"Shoulder's feeling better."

"Good."

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"I asked you if you like Jonquil. You never answered it."

"And that's a problem? I don't need to like her, and I don't see how this has to do with what we're doing now."

Sam shrugged. "Fine. Do you think she likes you?"

"It doesn't matter if she likes me or not. Why do you care so much? Do YOU like her, Sam? I really don't need to hear this from you right now."

"What?"

Dean remained silent. He had been thinking about Sam had said before Wrath possessed him. There had been something Jonquil hadn't told him. Something he looked up while Sam slept, while Jonquil slept. He was capable of doing research too.

While he searched the internet, he found a title similar to the one Jonquil was reading in the bar in New Mexico…upon further review, it turns out that the Sins had a penchant for amplifying, as it were, the biggest sin, of their current host. Whatever it was they suppressed, kept buried deep down inside, before the Sin hit, it sent vibes out to the body, to the person, allowing their own sin to take root, that way when the Sin, say Wrath, hit, the host would be priming up to welcome it home.

That being said, everything Sam said the night before was not Wrath, it was Sam. All of his anger, it was him. Dean didn't look at his brother. There were things he wanted to address.

"I said do_ you_ like her? Because, after all you said, it seemed like you didn't want her around."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the night before Wrath rode you. All that crap you were saying, about Jonnie and Dad."

"Dean, I wasn't"—

"I looked it up Sam. The Sin that possesses you amplifies your own sin before settling in. Wrath was coming for you. That was your anger."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief, and shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"Well it happened."

"Okay, so crucify me. I was angry. I AM angry! Is it so bad? I don't understand Jonquil's reasons—and as far as I remember, you didn't either, until the other night—and no, I'm not exactly on the best of terms with Dad, but you already knew that. And you….let's really not get into this right now. You've got a helluva lot of crap in your closet too."

Dean scoffed a bitter smile on his lips as he focused on the road. He said nothing.

The sharp live sound of Metallica broke the silence. Dean picked it up.

The three hunters sat in a booth in a small diner, Jonnie and Dean together; it would seem, against Sam. It seemed to be a family friendly place, as there were kids and their parents around. Some teenagers. The three seemed out of place.

Each hunter had something else on their mind, as they silently paged through the glossy laminated menu. Jonquil was worried about her family's reaction. Dean wanted to cast aside his thoughts of Jonquil and his brother, but he was finding it hard to do. And Sam, his anger was brewing once more, at his brother.

"Are you all ready to order?" The teenaged waiter stood at the end of their booth. All three hunters shot up from the menus, their eyes hard. The waiter backed up. Jonquil cleared her throat.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with mushrooms."

"I'll have what she's having. Extra onions," Dean said, handing him the menu.

"I'll take the Wild West Burger." Sam smiled at the shaken waiter. He jotted the items down and nodded.

"Anything to drink?"

"Two beers and," Dean paused turning to Jonquil.

"A shake. Chocolate."

The boy nodded and headed to the kitchen.

"Glad I'm not driving with you." Jonquil said to Dean humorlessly. She tried to joke, but it fell so short of it…

"Glad I'm not the one kissing you…" Sam muttered offhand. The two other hunters turned like sharp shooters, eyes on him.

He looked up. "What? It's true."

Dean shook his head, that familiar old bitter smile on his lips. Jonquil at this point did not care. Actually she was through with it.

"Look. I was taught to repress things. And that's all good and well, but we cannot have an explosion that may very well scar the children in this facility. So how about you two duke it out later? And Sam, drop it. It was a kiss. We've all kissed people before. And quite honestly, I couldn't accept it. Dean was very brash, his behavior intolerable. That kiss was an insult."

Sam stared at Jonquil, as Dean turned to her. In mid frown he spoke.

"What do you mean you can't accept that kiss?"

"I'm saying if you meant anything by it, I can't accept it. I mean, it'd be like me kissing you right now. What the hell was that? Completely unreasonable. I'm not saying you have to _romance_ me. But, let's lay the cards out on the table."

The two hunters stared at Jonquil, who looked past Dean, to the approaching waiter with the drinks. He quickly set the drinks down on the table and jetted. She put the straw in and began to drink her shake.

"So, YOU want to put the cards down on the table? That's a first," Dean said with a laugh.

Sam shook his head. "So are there more things you're hiding from us?"

"I didn't say that. I want us to start going down a new road, and I mean all of us. Not just me. See, it just doesn't work out like that. For example, we'll be heading to my home. As you guys know, no one back home knows what I've been up to. So now, the whole damn family has to show up. My sister—and Dean, she's pretty, but don't try it, her girlfriend is coming along; my brother, and his … fiancé. I wish that whore upon no one. See. I did it. No surprises. Whatever you keep inside, you better be prepared to handle it yourself, and make sure no one sees it, as my late professor would tell me."

The guys stared in shock. The table was silent until the waiter returned with the steaming hot hamburgers. The hunters began to eat in silence.

"Also, I may have feelings for you Dean. I just might. I can't decide if that inquietude brewing within me was hunger or something for you."

Dean looked up at her, surprised, as a week ago, he had the same reaction. "It was hunger."

"I thought so."

Sam just stared at the two hunters across from him, eating their hamburgers in strained oblivion, trying to deny what was right there.


	21. Public Service Actions

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: A special thanks for all those who have come back to read this! And those who have added this to their alerts and favorites, a special thanks to you all as well. This is a nice and long chapter leading up to the moment we've been waiting for: Jonnie's return home. Spend some quality time with the boys in her truck!

* * *

Chapter Twenty One

As Dean stood outside by his car, waiting for Sam to return from the bathroom, Jonquil came out of the diner. He didn't know what to say to her. She was not looking at him as she headed up to her car. He cleared his throat.

"So how long until we reach home?"

He couldn't decide if he should just carry on his usual banter as if what she had said before had no meaning. Well, it didn't have meaning. It was just hunger. He knew it. He had been hungry too before he decided to go save her that day a week ago. It was hunger, he seemed to reassure himself. Poorly.

"About a few hours." She didn't look at him. His gaze remained on her.

There was just silence. Awkward silence. She looked up and caught him staring at her.

"You can't do that in front of my mother."

"Do what?"

"Stare at me. Stop doing it now. What? Do I have something on my face?"

Dean collected himself and frowned. She had nothing on her face, it was her face. He couldn't understand what was drawing him to her. He barely knew her, except for how aggravating she was. She was guarded. Not letting him in at all. But he didn't care, did he? He chastised himself for the rhetorical questions he fully well knew the answers to.

"I wasn't staring at you. I was staring past you."

Jonquil's dubious look said she did not believe him. "At what?"

"The blood fringed tie on your rear view mirror."

Jonquil did not bother to answer and opened the door to her truck.

Dean congratulated himself for angering her. He knew full well about the tie. It came up the night before, during their argument. Apparently it was her professor's, a death she caused, so she claimed. However, she did not go into details.

As Dean rolled his eyes, he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for his brother.

Jonquil looked at him through the window of her car door. She hated him. For making her rethink the choice she made, for making her think about her professor. For making her feel the way she felt, something she avoided for a long time, regardless of hunting. It was hunger. He knew the answer to be hunger too. But hunger for what?

This time it was she who got caught. Dean's eyes seized her with an accusatory hold. She frowned and opened the car door.

"What the hell is taking your brother so damn long?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Wouldn't know what?"

Both hunters jumped, startled. Sam appeared in between the two cars seemingly out of thin air.

"Why you were taking so long. No matter. Let's go…"

Sam looked at the two hunters, each turning away from each other. This was ridiculous.

"What was taking you so long?"

"I had to use the bathroom, fix my shoulder up a bit. Why? I thought you'd appreciate some time with Jonquil…or was I wrong?"

Dean's jaw tensed, and he gave his brother a sharp glance. "No. It was God awful."

"Why?"

"I can't wait till we get there. I'm hungry for some home cooking. I wonder what kind of food her mom cooks. Do you know where she's from?"

Sam knew Dean was not going to go into it. "Nope. Why don't you call her and find out?"

"Why me? I"—

Dean handed his brother the phone. Sam glared at him, and Dean gave him a warning look. Sam gave his brother a dirty look.

"Fine." He flipped the phone open and dialed the number.

"Hey…No everything's okay. So, Dean wanted to know where you're"—

Dean swerved the car sharply and Sam nearly dropped the phone.

"What the hell man?...No, not you…" Sam glared at his brother who smirked at him.

"Dean"—the car swerved again. Dean glanced at his brother, enticing him to mention his name once more. Sam glared at his brother and a wicked smile came on his face.

"Deanwantstoknowwhereyou'refromsohecan"—Dean swerved into another lane.

"WHAT THE HELL MAN?" Sam hung up the phone and hit his brother. The phone rang.

Sam picked it up. He held it to Dean.

"What?"

"She wants to talk to you."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "What? … Is that supposed to scare me?"

He looked straight ahead as he continued driving; sure that Jonquil wouldn't sacrifice one of her precious books on his car.

Sam crossed his arms, waiting.

"Listen sweetheart you can…,"he frowned. "Oh yeah? Well…Really?"

Sam watched his brother's eyebrows peak with interest. "Well…drive faster. I'm hungry."

Dean hung up with a grin on his face. He handed Sam the phone.

"We're going to Jersey."

"Yeah. I know. What? Where's she from?"

"She's Puerto Rican. And she has a sister. Who has a girlfriend. Who's Brazilian."

"You're sick you know that?"

"There's enough to share. Maybe her brother's fiancée?"

Dean smirked at his brother who rolled his eyes and shoved Dean. He only smiled, fighting the feeling, pressing it down into the abyss. It was hunger. Her mom was Puerto Rican, which had to mean good food right? At least that's what he had heard…

The only problem was that Dean had just eaten.

A fair amount of hours had gone by, and night had fallen, but Jonquil knew how to navigate the streets of New Jersey.

After taking the exit into her hometown, she drove about twenty minutes in, where the neighborhood became rough. She drove them back out into a nicer area, where she stopped in front of a tall building, with a lit up yellow sign that read 24-HR Parking. She stopped the car and got out.

The brothers soon stepped out of the Impala. Dean rested on the car. The purple night sky was cloudy.

"I want you two to park the Impala in here. Your car is very nice. I wouldn't want to see it stolen."

The boys said nothing, and got back in the car. She waited as they parked inside. She saw them walking back in.

"How long did you get parked for?"

"Five hours. That good enough?"

"Perfect."

Sam and Dean made their way to the green pick up.

"How are we all supposed to fit in that?"

Jonquil glared at Dean. "We'll make it fit."

Dean threw a look at his brother who shrugged. Jonquil cleared the books out of the seat, and made the most room possible. She stepped back from her work.

"Okay. Get in."

The two brothers looked at Jonquil dubiously. She didn't understand. "What? Get in the car."

"Um…I don't think we're all going to fit Jonnie," Sam crossed his arms.

"Well someone will have to get in the cab. Dean." She turned to the older Winchester.

His eyebrows rose up. "Me? In the cab? Get the hell out of here. You get in the cab. I'll drive."

"No. I need to drive. You don't know where I live. There's enough space for you in there."

"How short do you look to you?"

"Shorter than Sam. He can't fit he's too tall."

"But you can. Give me the address."

"No! I"—

"Really you guys? Jonnie at what time are you expected home?"

"Nine. Why?"

"It's 8:45. We should get going."

Jonquil looked at Sam, defeated. She sighed. "Fine. We'll all fit in the front. I will…have to sit on someone's lap, as the middle is really non existent."

The two brothers looked at each other for an instant, and both made heads for the driver's seat. Dean got in first.

Sam frowned at his brother.

"Well, I'm not looking forward to sitting on anyone's lap, but I didn't know I was that intolerable."

"It's not you Jonnie. It's Dean." Sam glared back at his brother who smirked, as he started the car.

Sam got in and waited for Jonnie to enter the car. Sam's long legs bunched in under the dashboard, leaving him practically no room to move, and even less room for Jonnie to seat herself. She looked at the nonexistent space on Sam's lap. He looked up at her in helplessness.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault you have long legs…"

Dean's face fell in false hope. "Aww come on. You can fit Jonnie. Sam, move your legs."

"I can't Dean." Sam spat at his brother. Jonquil cocked her head sideways, looking for feasible entryway.

"Dean, I'm going to have to drive," Sam said turning to his brother. He grinned. Dean grimaced. Jonnie caught the look.

"Dean, you'd think I'm out to kill you with that look. You can walk if you want. I'm just saying."

He glanced up at her and frowned. He opened the car door and made his way to the other side as Sam stepped out and headed toward the driver's seat.

Dean sat down. He looked at Jonquil expectantly. "Well? You gonna get in or what? _With that look you'd think I'm out to kill you_."

Jonquil gave him a dirty look as she stepped in. "Move your legs in, or spread them out so I can sit."

"Well, someone likes calling the shots. Bossy one aren't you?"

"You've caught on. About time. Now do it."

"Yes m'am." Dean smirked and spread his legs. Jonquil shot him another dirty look.

"Can you two hurry up?" Sam's eyes were on the clock.

Jonquil got in, sat herself in between Dean's legs, on the small piece of seating that remained.

"Hey! Stop moving, my legs can't move anymore."

"Well, I need to"—

Sam drove forward, causing Jonnie to nearly fly into the windshield, had Dean's hands not instinctively grabbed her waist. They lurched forward. Both hunters glared at Sam, whose hair was in his face.

"Where do we go from here?"

"Do a U-turn, head down three blocks. Turn left at the nail salon, keep going till you hit a graffittied wall, trust me, you'll know which one, turn right, and turn right when you hit the intersection. There will be three big buildings in the middle of that block. Stop at Haviland Court, the middle complex."

Sam stared at her for a moment and nodded.

"I'll keep an eye out for parking, if there is some."

Dean leaned back into his seat as Sam started the car once more. His hands had moved from Jonquil's waist to her hips, as he accommodated her between his legs. Jonquil said nothing as she settled where he led her, and reached for a cassette above the radio. She put it in.

Sam glanced at the two hunters beside him. They were silent, aware of each other, and yet acting as if nothing was happening.

"What are you"-

_"I'm in love…with a voodoo woman…yeah…."_

The twangy southern guitar mixed with the Greek bouzouki filled the small space as Lousiana Red declared his love alongside Stelios Vamvakris for the voodoo lady.

The car was silent. Jonquil cleared her throat and looked back at Dean, whose hand's where resting on her hips. He looked up at her. She looked down at his hands, hands that had gotten too comfortable where they were.

Dean removed his hands, cleared his throat and smirked. "You don't have a seatbelt."

"I don't need"—

She swerved to the right, as Sam speed up at the turn. Once more Dean's hands caught her.

"Sam. This is not a freeway."

"No, but the road is pretty empty and we're running late."

Jonnie glared at Sam, who didn't take notice and felt Dean smirking at her. His eyes on her back.

"Could you stop looking at me please, with that ridiculous smirk on your face?"

Dean cocked a brow, as Jonquil had not turned around. "You said not to do it in front of your mother, so why not do it now, that she won't see me?"

Dean wondered why he was even staring at her.

Jonquil said nothing and frowned. "Make the left here. And Dean. Stop pulling me closer, or I'll smother you."

"I just don't want you flying out of that window. Unless you want to, and then your whole case will be out the window with you."

No one laughed save for Dean, who after a second of looking at his companions realized it wasn't as funny as he thought, and the smile quickly died down.

"You guys suck."


	22. To the Right of Her Mother

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Jonnie's long awaited nostos is now here. Thank you all for reading; **LittleRock'n'RollQueen167 **and **Kinthinia **thank you guys for reviewing, you thoughts/comments are appreciated! Thanks to those who added this story to their alerts and/or favorites. And all you who have read-thanks for sticking with it. Hope you all like this one.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

The three hunters stood at the door of apartment 5D.

Jonquil turned to the guys behind her. "Okay. Now remember, I go to U Penn, you two are my…uhm…"

"Student teachers, I teach World Law, Dean Mechanics. Don't worry, we'll be fine."

Sam looked at Jonquil, who seemed like she was shaking with anticipation, extremely nervous. He glanced at Dean who was looking at her with an exasperated expression; his lips pursed his arms crossed.

"Calm down. It's just your family."

"You don't understand." She looked down at her shirt as she tried to straighten it. She groaned.

"What now?"

"Look at me! I look like I don't even go to school!"

Sam knocked on the door as Dean turned her around.

The door opened, and the music that had been vibrating from behind the door hit them.

"JONNIE!"

A young woman in her mid twenties stood in the doorway arms outstretched. There was a huge smile plastered on her lips.

Jonnie couldn't help but smile back just as wide as her sister did. She jumped into her sister's embrace.

"JADA! I missed you so much!"

"You too nena! Come in!"

The brothers watched the woman who looked somewhat like a darker Jonnie with much shorter and straight black hair embrace her younger sister. They smiled, each despite themselves. Jonquil let go and walked into the apartment.

The tall woman grinned at them. "Well come in!"

The two hunters smiled at her and entered. They looked around the small apartment, wondering how all…one two three…eight of them fit inside. Jonquil had left the Winchesters behind to say hello to a young man who resembled both sisters a bit, except he was lighter than both and had hazel eyes.

Above the loud salsa music that was blaring in the living room that was full of people, the brothers heard someone call out from the right side of the apartment. They turned to see a middle aged woman walking into the room carrying a large plate of food. She headed to the further most part of the living room, where a long table had been set up by the windows.

Everyone gained way as the woman placed the large plate in the middle of the food and plates that had been served.

"Now where's Jonnie?" the woman asked.

She smiled as her daughter came in to give her a hug. "_Pero mija_, what are you wearing? You come to see family and bring guests and this is how you dress…"

The woman had a trace of a Spanish accent in her voice.

"No, Ma. I was going to change…"

"Ay Ma, leave her alone. She's here now and that's what's important." Jadine pulled her sister by her side.

"You haven't even introduced us to your guests."

Jonquil turned to the young woman with long black hair who was sitting languidly on the black leather couch. Her dress was black and short and she had red lipstick on her curved lips. She glanced at the men and smirked. Jonnie glared at the girl.

"You're right. How rude of me." Jonquil turned to the Winchesters. "These are my student teachers for my favorite classes. Sam and Dean."

Sam smiled, his usual charm and courteousness pervaded through his eyes. Dean smiled at all of them, particularly the one on the couch. Jonquil cleared her throat.

"Jadine," the woman who welcomed Jonnie said as she held out her hand. The boys shook it. "Carolina! Get out of the kitchen!"

The boys turned as a bronze colored woman with long brown hair and light brown eyes came out of the kitchen.

"What is it? Oh! You must be Jonnie's professors. Carolina Paixão."

Dean grinned at her as he shook her hand. Jonquil cleared her throat and shook her head.

"She's my girl professor," Jadine said smiling at Dean, as she took Carolina away.

The solemn young man who was dressed in a business suit by the table came forward. "Jourdain, my fiancée Gladys."

The young woman with black hair stood from the couch to join her beloved and shake hands with the hunters.

Jonquil glared at the woman from behind Dean, and for a minute, along with Gladys' sneer, she swore the girl's eyes flashed black. But it was a mere second. Jonquil couldn't tell if she was just seeing things.

"And this is my mother, Elvira."

The woman shook the boys' hands, "Well, the food isn't going to be eaten by itself. Everybody, come sit, let's eat!"

As everyone headed toward the kitchen, Jonnie and the guys lagged behind.

"Okay," she breathed. "We're doing good. Just about another hour, hour and a half…god I hope they don't start singing…"

Elvira stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Jonnie, turn off the music, and you two, come eat."

Elvira sat at the head of the table. The other end was filled by Sam, who looked uncomfortable by the position. On the left of the table, from Sam sat Jadine, Carolina and Jourdain. To his right, Sam had Dean Jonnie and Gladys.

"So, how has school been Jonnie?"

Joqnuil looked up at her mother. "It's been good. Learning. Working to get an internship."

"Mm." Elvira made a sound of contempt. As Jonquil looked away from her mother, Dean noted a look of shame and anger.

"How was the Navy?" Jonnie turned the conversation away from herself.

"It's been good. Hopefully after this break, I'll be raised to Lieutenant Commander soon. It's been good. Last two years the Pacific. I think I'll be heading to Greece this year."

Dean's eyebrows rose as did the respect for Jonnie's sister.

"I've been on the same path. Hopefully they'll station us together." Carolina smiled at Jadine.

"This is really good Mrs. Salas, I've never really had anything like it," Sam said as he swallowed his dinner.

Dean nodded in agreement; too busy stuffing his mouth with all the food he had served himself.

Elvira smiled. "Thank you Sam. And you can call me Elvira Medalla. It's pernil. Jonquil, you haven't cooked for your professors? You've at least cooked for your Professor Terro…or what was his name? What happened?"

Jonquil chewed her food slowly before she responded to her mother. "I can't exactly cook in the dorms. And I never cooked for Terrence. He couldn't show because something came up with his family. So I bought my other professors along."

Gladys snorted. Jonquil glared at her. The family glanced at her.

"Mhm. You boys look too young to teach. What do you teach?"

"Well, I teach world law," Sam said wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Dean drank some water. "I teach mechanics."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing they teach," muttered Gladys before she took another spoonful of rice and beans. Jonquil turned to her in a glare.

"Mechanics?" Jourdain frowned. "I thought you wanted to be an anthropologist. You hate physical science."

"Well, I really like this class"—

"I wonder why…" Gladys mentioned casually.

Jonquil glared at her. "I like this class because it's really going to help me for when I get out in the field. It's not just mechanics, it's ancient mechanics."

Elvira looked between Jonquil and Dean, and back to Sam. "Mmhmm.

"So how does she do in her classes?" Jadine asked as she ate.

"She does really well; she understands the politics of different cultures in a way that's going to make her very successful."

"And for your class Dean?" Elvira's eyes were hard on him. He swallowed his food.

"She's doing okay." Jonquil glanced at him. He kept his eyes on Elvira. "But I'm sure she'll get better this year. Right Jonnie?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do better." Jonquil grabbed a tostone, and began to eat it.

"You know, I still don't understand exactly what it is you'll be doing Jonnie. Your sister's in the navy, your brother's in business. What exactly are you going to do with anthropology?"

"I'm going to study other cultures. I want to work for National Geographic."

Elvira looked at her daughter with contempt. "Mmhmm. We'll see where you'd go with that."

Jonquil said nothing, as her face tightened, and she stopped eating. She did not look at her mother.

Gladys smiled, and she looked at Jonquil, "You know Jonnie, I didn't exactly find those classes you're taking on the brochure for your school. Are you sure that's what these guys are teaching you?"

"What would they be teaching me Gladys, since you go to my classes?"

"I don't know, how do two at a time?"

"Jourdain, control your bitch," Jonquil said as she put her plate aside.

"What, am I getting you upset? Do I know something they don't?"

"Jourdain…"

"What is it Jonnie? You afraid they'll find out?"

"Find out what?" Elvira demanded, almost standing. "If you're pregnant Jonquil Salas, don't you dare come my way."

"Find out she's dropped out. You haven't been in school for a year and a half. What you've been doing this whole time? Who knows…riding around with these boys? Or your professor? I wonder what"—

Jonquil turned and punched Gladys square in the face, knocking her off her seat.

"JONNIE! What the hell man!" Jourdain exclaimed as he bent to get her, but Gladys sat up, a smirk on her face, eyes black.

"You got me kid! Mmm. More love than you ever had from your mom, your brother, more attention than any were willing to give you…it feels so good…"

Sam got up and headed toward the duffel bag Jonquil by the door. Dean stood. There was a huge commotion going on.

Gladys stood and grabbed Jonquil by the throat. She laughed as Jonquil struggled out of her grip. Jonquil raised her leg and kicked Gladys, who then dropped her. Jonnie stood up faster than Gladys, and grabbed her by the hair, pulling and twisting it, bringing Gladys close to her.

"Now!"

Dean threw the rosary at Jonnie, who put it around Gladys' neck. She screamed, and stopped moving.

"Invidia!"

"Per Vitium vos errant paro, per Rectum vos es reus!"

Black smoke tunneled out of Gladys' throat as Sam spoke and held open the Cradle of Virtue.

The demon found its way into the vial, which was immediately sealed thereafter.

Gladys' body fell limp as she slipped into unconsciousness under Jonnie's arm. Everyone looked at the three hunters.

"What the hell was that?" Jadine asked with a deadpan look.

"Get out of my house." Elvira stated.

"What?"

"You brought that into my house, bringing demons_ y otra mierda aqui_! _Dios solo sabe que mas traistes contigo_! You and those boys! It wouldn't surprise me if Gladys was right."

"Ma! Gladys was possessed by a demon. She lied."

"Not about everything. You brought evil and shame into this house. Everyone here works hard but you. What do you go and do after everything I've given you? You run around with boys, chasing…I don't even know what. If you told me you wanted to build houses I would be happy, I could die in peace, but this, this is even worse than your anthropology National Geographic dreams. It's worse because it's real."

"Ma, I help people. I didn't bring evil into this house, it came here, and I got rid of it. And please, do not start with school. I paid my way. You did what you had to and wanted to. I appreciate that, you don't even know it, but after that, I did what I had to do. I got my scholarships, I worked"—

"Leave. I don't want to see you again. You've caused more trouble than you're worth. I should have listened to your father and had that abortion."

Jonquil staved off the tears stinging her eyes as she stormed down the stairs. She had to go. She had to keep going. She didn't know where, she didn't care; she had to get out of that building.

The cool summer breeze hit her as she opened the door, walked past the local thugs on the stoop, and headed toward the black gate. She pushed it open without as much as a glance behind her.

"Jonnie! Wait!" She heard a voice cry out from the distance behind her as she crossed the street without caution. She stopped as a car speed past her. She kept going.

The wound inside her was torn open. Her fear…it was true. There could be nothing more real. And she had to face this. She touched her pants, realizing Sam had her keys. She said nothing and headed down the block. She kept walking. Walking past the places of her past, letting her feet lead her down the familiar streets. She had to keep going. If she didn't stop, the tears would not fall.

Dean's eyes were wide as everyone else who was sitting around the table. Everyone fell silent. His eyes rested on Jonquil. Her face was frozen, and there was emptiness, and a flash of pain in them. She did not stare at her mother a moment more and stood. She left the table. A second later the door slammed shut behind her.

"MA! What the hell?" Jadine yelled at her mother. Sam glanced at him. Dean nodded, and both brothers got up.

"Just get her stuff. Find a place to stay. Call me when you do," Dean spoke quietly to his brother and left after Jonquil.

As he rushed down the stairs, he saw Jonquil's dark long waves grow farther and farther from him. He sped up his pace.

As he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he saw her walking past the men who were loitering on the stoop. He ran after her.

"Jonnie!" he called after her. She kept going. She stopped in the middle of the road, letting a car pass.

Dean ran after her, as she turned to head down the block. He ran to catch up with her. She moved away, faster, making another turn. He sighed and kept after her.

They soon reached a small park, fenced with black metal. Jonquil was about to climb the fence when Dean grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he pulled her in face to face.

He said nothing as she tried to struggle against him. She wouldn't look at him. Not in the eye.

Dean softened his grip on Jonquil's arms, and she gave in. she stopped struggling, and almost suddenly, Dean felt her slump against him, her head resting on his chest. He could feel her haggard breathing. He was at a loss.

Half of him wanted to hold her, pull her in closer. Make things right for her. _That was fucked up._

But he didn't know what to do. Her breathing slowed, and he put his hands in her hair, patting her. Her hair was soft underneath his rough worn hands. He brought his chin over her head.

Jonquil closed her eyes, and she felt the hot tears stream down her face. She breathed in Dean. She didn't want to let go. She pulled on his jacket, bringing him closer. She didn't care anymore.

"Why?"

He didn't respond, but kept stroking her hair.

"Why doesn't anyone …want me…" her voice was a mere whisper. One Dean heard, but had nothing to say to.

She stiffened underneath him and breathed in deeply. He felt had felt the warmth of her tears on his shirt and said nothing.

She pulled away from him and said nothing. He cleared his throat and spoke.

"Where the hell did you park my car?"

Jonquil tried to smirk at him, as he did her, but it was so sad. So damn sad. She wiped her eyes with her sleeves, and her voice was surprisingly not cracked.

"Far far away. Now we've got to walk. You know, my sister and brother used to play in this park when we were kids." She smiled weakly, looking back at the park as they walked back.

Dean said nothing as he walked beside Jonquil. She wanted to tell him everything. He wouldn't say anything. She knew that. But now was not the time.

_Are you fucking stupid? How could now not be the time? Your mother said she should have aborted you when she had the chance. What the—_

Jonquil stopped thinking to herself. She had to say something. Now was not the time. In the shower. That was divulging time.

"Well. At least we've got one down…aww crap. I left my stuff in the house."

"Sam has it. He should"—

Dean picked up his phone. "Yeah? Alright. We'll be there."

The two hunters walked in silence to the garage, where they waited for the valet.

Dean glanced at Jonnie. Her face hid everything and nothing at once, if only she would meet his eyes. He opened him mouth to say something, but shut it immediately.

What was he to say? Sorry your mom wanted to abort you? Sorry your dad was never there? He was tempted to relate to that, except for the fact that his father loved him. Hers didn't.

The two hunters got in the car. He sighed as Jonquil looked out the window. He could make nothing right for her.

As Dean pulled out of the garage, he spoke. "Reach into the dashboard. All the way in the back, you should feel a cassette. Take it out."

Jonquil looked at him for moment, not sure why he asked her to do it, he glanced at her.

"What? Do it."

She did and handed him the old cassette. Dean popped it in. Before pressing play, he looked at the player, and glanced at Jonquil, who had returned to the window. He recognized the look in her face…

He sighed as he started to drive. "If you ever tell anyone about what's going to happen, I promise you Jonquil Salas, I'll kill you before any demon does, you got it?"

Jonquil turned to him and frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Dean pressed play. The bass line started to play. Within five seconds,

"_I've got sunshine, on cloudy day. When it's cold outside, I got the month of May..."_

Jonquil looked up at Dean who was mouthing the words. A smile cracked on her lips. He kept driving, mouthing the words of the second verse, looking straight at the window shield. He turned to her.

Dean started to croon," Oooooo!"

He snapped his fingers and swayed, pulling her arm to sway. Jonnie shook her head smiling. She looked away with a smile on her face as he started singing to her.

"I don't need no money, fortune or fame. I've got all the riches, baby, one man can claim…Well I guess you'll say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl!"

He did a falsetto; poorly…And Jonnie started dying with laughter.

"You know that's what your sister told me about her girlfriend?"

Dean pressed stop on the cassette. Jonquil looked up at him smiling.

He grinned at her. "I'm serious. I love a lady in uniform."

"Well, Carolina is too nice a girl to be with you, even if she was into guys."Jonquil shook her head.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It would never work out between you two. Keep dreaming."

"Damn right I will. Your sister and her girlfriend…Mmmm."

Jonquil shoved his arm. "I didn't need to hear that. You're disgusting."

Dean grinned. That's it. Focus on what's not serious. That's how he got by. He'd help Jonnie. This was what he could do.

"I'm still driving. And I'll kick your ass if you ever bring this up."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time."

Jonquil sat in her seat, serious for a moment. Dean glanced at her. She stared at the road.

"Dean, I can't wait to get the hell out of this place."

He looked at her for a moment. "Yeah. Me too."


	23. An Encroaching Fear

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thanks for reading, I hoped you all liked the last chapter! This one is a little shorter, but still full of melancholy. Thanks to **Kinthinia **for reviewing and a special thanks to those who added this to their alerts and favorites!

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Chapter Twenty Three

Sam sat on the chair in the motel room he found near the highway.

They should arrive shortly; it was about a twenty minute drive. Sam kept thinking about the scene that brought Jonquil down. Then about what he said…

_What did you leave for this? A family that loves you?_ He shook his head in regret, remembering how she did not answered and persisted to carry on. Hell…if … if things had been like that for him, maybe he'd leave too. But he wanted someone like that. Her mother wanted her to go to school, to have a decent job, something stable. His father never gave him that. Never. Looked down at him leaving this life.

Deny it as much as he'd like to, Sam knew his father cared about him. Maybe not in the way he wanted him to, but he cared. But that wasn't the point. He wondered what had happened to Jonnie and his brother.

Dean, Sam thought smiling weakly. Why did he run after the girl? Dean could also try to deny things, but the fact was that he cared about Jonquil. Sam knew it, maybe he wasn't sure to what extent that caring went, but it still stood.

Sam waited, silent in thought, contemplating his own relationship with his family…there were things he wanted to say, things he knew he could never say, and just a few he could bring up, and even that topic was with caution.

As the he fell deeper in thought, there was a knock on the door. Sam continued brooding, not noticing it.

"Hey! Mr. Ford! Open the damn door!"

Sam's brooding broke as soon as he heard his brother's voice. He jumped up to get the door. Dean stood against the door post, carrying a duffel bag, Jonquil by his side. Dean looked up at his younger brother. He frowned.

"Pensive. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just thinking…" Sam moved aside so the two hunters could enter the room.

"That's your problem Sammy, you think too much."

"And you don't think enough," Sam retorted as he closed the door.

"Works well for me. You should try it some time." Dean smirked at his brother as he threw himself onto a bed.

Jonquil leaned against the desk, a pensive look in her eyes too. Sam noted it, but said nothing. The room fell silent.

Dean sighed in release, his arms crossed behind his head. He opened an eye and glanced between the two brooding hunters. He frowned in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

"Oh God. Come on. What the hell is this? Dawson's Creek? Stop brooding. The both of you are making me depressed."

Dean closed his eyes again, the silence biting at him. He grunted and sat up. He looked at the two hunters, still lost in their thoughts.

"Fuck this…," he muttered. "Going for a drink."

Dean got up and left the room. Seconds later, the low rumble of the Impala filled the silent room.

"I'm sorry." Jonquil looked at Sam.

"What for?" she asked.

"For what I said before. I didn't know anything"—

"Look. Don't apologize. There's this complex in my family…my sister's in the navy. Her father is in prison. My brother's a business man. His father's a local drunk. I…I'm here. And my dad is with his family. Two families before mine, two families after. I was just a road bump for him. And apparently my mother. So don't be sorry. I'm breaking that damn cycle. Okay? I'm free. I know the truth…"

"And how are you going to act on it?" Sam couldn't stop himself. Jonnie looked at him seriously.

"I don't know yet."

Jonquil retreated to her thoughts. Had she really broken the cycle or was she just bringing it full circle? Her father had left her mother, in search of another family, supposedly. And she…she left to go find out what family meant. To study cultures, particularly that of family structure, she wanted to know what it meant. So she in a sense abandoned them. Time for a release was coming. Just not now.

Jonquil went to the bathroom to shower. She knew she could not cry, at least not out loud.

Dean sat in the bar not too far from the motel. He drank his liquor in silence. He didn't want to think about Jonquil, his brother, or his father. But what else could he do?

He looked around. Not enough people to scam, no one even worth teasing around with. He sighed knowing he would have to head back. At least there…at least there he could distract himself with the idea of what wasn't there.

Jonquil stepped out of the shower. She didn't think. The tears fell into the drops of water that ran down her face, that ran down her back, that she almost wished ran into her lungs. She was already drowning. As she put on her sleeping attire and toweled her hair off slightly, she looked into the hazy mirror full of condensation. Her eyes were red. She didn't care. Dean should be off, and Sam should be sleeping.

As Jonquil stepped out of the bathroom the front door opened into the darkened motel room. She froze until she saw it was Dean. He looked up at her.

"Where's Sam?"

"Asleep." She looked down at the bed. He was still healing.

Dean closed the door and removed his jacket. He didn't turn on the lights, as the soft moonlight filtered into the room. As he undressed, Jonquil said nothing and got into bed.

Dean was silent. As he headed toward the bed, he realized Jonquil had washed her hair, and the crisp clean scent of her would drown him tonight.

"Great," he muttered. He glanced down at the girl who was facing his brother's bed. She hadn't turn to him or said anything. He sighed. He got into bed next to her.

"I know you're not asleep. I've got one question for you."

"What?" She didn't turn to him. Dean didn't want to face anything, but he heard the distant quality in her voice.

He said the first thing that came to mind, besides the obvious. "Why haven't you cooked anything like what your mother made?"

Dean looked at the ceiling as he felt the body beside his move. "Are you joking around?"

"No. I'm serious. That was good food. If you'd've cooked something like that when we first met you, this shit would have been done a long time ago."

Jonquil shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Well, for starters, I haven't been in a motel where there is a stove. And cooking all that shit takes at least two days. There's prep time involved. This is a good deal in advanced planned. At least two days. One of which you spend the entire day in the kitchen. And…my cooking is alright for me. It's okay, but nowhere near my mom's. She's had years of training. I mean, she raised her six brothers and sisters since she was like…sixteen. She knows how to cook. I on the other hand…I got by with ramen and canned food while I was young. On occasion, she'd make something big like that. I do have the rice and beans down though. She taught Jadine who taught me."

Jonquil stopped speaking. She and Dean both stared at the ceiling. The only sound was the muffled inhalations of Sam, and their own soft paced breathing.

"I can't be this way anymore. It's killing me."

Dean hesitated. "Learn to live with it."

Jonquil stared at the ceiling. This was one thing she did not want to learn, and the only thing Dean even hinted at teaching.


	24. Follow the Gravel Paved Road

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thank you for still reading/starting to read (it's never too late!). Thanks to **Rosa4dean **for reviewing and a special thanks to those who added this to their alerts and favorites! We're coming to a close soon people.

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Chapter Twenty Four

Dean watched his brother resting, his glance falling to the other hunter. She had been growing, changing. He saw it in her eyes. But now, as she lay resting, he wondered if her dreams were plagued by the words of her mother.

The sun was falling into the room from the edges of the curtain. He sighed.

"You are a creep Dean. Tell me you bought something to eat and haven't been sitting there watching us sleep…"

Dean frowned at the girl who shifted under the covers. Her eyes were still closed and she wrapped herself fully with the covers.

"You're the creep. Telling me what I've been doing with your eyes closed…"

Jonquil's eyes flashed opened and locked on Dean's. She smirked. "I have magical powers."

"What the hell's the matter with you? Go to sleep."

"Okay…okay…But seriously," she yawned and stretched as she got out of bed. "Did you get breakfast? Because…"

She paused frowning. She looked up at Dean.

"Not hungry?" he asked.

"Yes…Oddly enough I'm not."

"It was all that damn food last night."

"Ah." Jonquil quickly grew somber. She briskly grabbed her duffel bag and headed toward the bathroom.

Dean sighed and leaned forward in the chair, his face collapsing in his hands. He hadn't slept at all that night. When everything grew silent and the words just didn't come out like he wanted, all he had were his thoughts. And true, he could distract himself, but only for so long. Whenever Jonquil moved, her crisp clean scent would spill into the stagnant air he breathed, would call him back to that motel room; or the sudden loud muffled snore of his brother. Dean hadn't slept at all. For the first time in a long time, Dean had spent the night thinking, going over the events of his life, where he stood with his father, his brother, even his new found companion. And those answers he refused to look at in the eye, they would be there. It was only a question of pushing them aside or embracing them as he should.

Dean was slipping into a semiconscious state, where dreams fade with reality, and you don't know what's really happening, when Jonnie opened the bathroom door ten minutes later.

He was slouching on the chair. She glanced at Sam. He shifted in his sleep, a peaceful look on his face as he recuperated his strength.

Jonnie's gaze fell upon Dean once more. She felt…a need. A need to see him rest. It was strange, as this feeling of gentleness washed over her. She put down her folded dirty clothes and reached for his arm.

"Dean…" she spoke softly. She nudged him again. He looked up at her in a state of half sleep."Come on…Get up, get to bed."

He shook his head slowly, but he could not resist the tenderness of her action, and followed her warm hand to the bed. She stood by the bed as he acclimated himself.

Jonquil stepped back, watching the two brothers sleep. Something in her heart kindled. She frowned. This was not good. Not good at all. She shook it off. She was getting comfortable around them now. Of course it would be now, only moments before she would have to leave them in search of their father.

Jonquil sighed, knowing that this would give her plenty of time to do research.

Sam sniffed the air. It was savory—it smelled like good homemade food. He shifted in his sheets, feeling strangely comfortable, in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. The room had been warm, the lights were soft; it was dark out already. He opened his eyes more, and saw his brother sleeping like a baby in the bed next to his. Dean too shifted, waking slowly in a bizarre position, clearly confused.

Sam eased up on the bed, the wound on his shoulder healed fairly well. He was fine after this rest. He saw the Jonnie had been setting up some plates on the desk.

"Hey," he spoke, his voice still thick with sleep. Dean fell back onto the bed, sighing.

Jonquil turned to him. She smiled quickly at him as she set up the rest of the food. He saw two pots and a big plastic bag. She stood with her back toward the brothers. Her hands rested on her hips, as she stared at her work in approval.

"Okay boys, time to get up. We've got a few fun hours before we head to…"

"To where?" Dean had covered his head with a pillow; his voice was muffled.

"I'll let you know when you two get up to eat."

Sam looked at Jonquil strangely. Why was she going all homemaker on them? He glanced at his brother, who caught his look, and returned it with an equally suspicious glance. Jonquil frowned.

"Okay. I try to be nice, and you people look at me like something's wrong…"

"Nice? Try Martha Stewart. What gives?" Dean asked as he sat up in the bed, wondering how he even got there.

Jonnie crossed her arms and leaned against the table. "Look. This next hunt, it's my last. After this, I'll be out of your life for good, which I expect will please the both of you. And that's fine. And since last night, you were complaining Dean, about how I never cook; I coerced the manager to let me use his stove. And I went out and bought some chicken. It's my uh…good bye meal."

"Jonnie thanks. This is …this is really"—

"Aww come on man. No chick flick moments." He rolled his eyes and dismissed Jonnie. "Let's just eat. What time is it?"

Dean got out of bed faster than Sam and grabbed a plate. Sam headed toward the table and pushed Dean.

"It's 8:30."

"What? You mean we slept through a whole day," Dean exclaimed between gulps of food. "This is really good by the way."

"Thank you and yes. But you guys needed your sleep anyway. We can roll out after here."

"Where are we going?" Sam looked up from his plate of food. His brother was right. It was good. Jonnie leaned on the table beside him.

"Florida."

Dean grinned at her. "No. Not Miami. Or Orlando."

"We should go to Disneyland or world, whatever's down there. Never been."

"Dean, I don't think now is the time," Sam said, glancing at his brother as he refilled his plate.

"So…" Dean grabbed a beer. "This is really going to be your last hunt with us?"

"Yup. Then I'm off to find your father."

"Good luck with that." Sam muttered. Dean looked down at his beer for a moment, his lips pursed and twisting around. He glanced up at Jonnie. She was staring at the wall, arms crossed, something of a sad look in her distant gaze.

Sam looked at his brother and the other hunter. He rolled his eyes and grinned a little. He shook his head and took another bite of food. They were fools. But he said nothing. He cleared his throat. Jonquil turned to him and caught Dean staring at her with a longing look in his eye. It disappeared within seconds. He glanced up at his brother, as if he hadn't been looking at her.

"You gonna finish that?"

"Dude! I'm still working on it." Sam smirked at his brother. Dean grinned back.

"There's still more left Dean. I figured you guys would be hungry…"

"You figured right. Anyone ever told you the key to a man's heart is his stomach?" Dean said as he filled his plate once more. He glanced up at her.

"Heard so…"

"If it's true, then maybe you won't make such a bad nagging girlfriend. Or wife, but I don't think anyone's that crazy."

Jonnie frowned and threw napkins at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Aww, come 'ere Jonnie, I know you want me. It's okay to act out like that."

Sam rolled his eyes, as he continued to eat. He had the distinct feeling his brother was trying to make this dinner last longer than necessary; the food was almost gone.

"Why would I want you?" Jonquil replied with a haughty look in her eyes.

Dean mocked offense. "Who would want you?"

The room fell silent. Damn. Way to go Dean. Dean kicked himself mentally for saying it. Of course he wanted her. Not that he would admit it, but this was exactly what she was crying about the other day. Wrong choice of words. He looked at Jonnie. She didn't seem fazed.

"Clearly, you do. Since I feed you well."

"_When_ you feed me."

"We should head out soon." Sam broke up their banter. They had forgotten he was there, naturally.

Jonquil collected herself and nodded. "He's right. Finish up Dean. You too Sam. I don't want to see a single grain of rice left over."

"Yes Ma'am" Dean said saluting her. Sam looked up at her. She watched them like dear ones.

"Jonnie was acting kind of strange, huh?" Sam commented to Dean nonchalantly a few hours into the ride.

"What do you mean?"

"She was, being all…caring and stuff. I don't know. And you, you were"-

"I was what?" Dean glanced at his brother.

"You were acting…"

"Acting like what Sam?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Are you sad she's leaving?"

Dean stared at his brother for a moment.

"No. I'm glad. She's been pissing me off this whole damn time…"

Sam gave his brother a momentary glance, questioning his entire statement.

"I think I'm going to miss her a little. We were all finally getting along."

"Yeah. Well. That kind of thing happens."

"But…she was getting pretty close to you Dean. You sure you won't miss her?"

Dean was getting frustrated, annoyed with his brother. "Yeah yeah yeah. I'm gonna miss her annoying ass and having to save her every five minutes. Who the hell does she think she is?"

"What?"

"You know…she just showed up and dragged us into her shit is all. Making me feel bad if I didn't help her."

"Dean…you have a conscience?"

Dean glared at his brother who smirked, not attempting to hide his laugh.

"But yeah…_Are_ you going to miss her?"

Dean shrugged. "Didn't really know her. Don't really care. All too much. Why are you asking so many damn questions? What? You want me to say I fell for a chick after a few weeks? Get the hell outta here.

"Well…did you?"'

Dean gave him a flat look and a slap upside his head. "No, you dumbass that kind of shit takes some time, doesn't it?"

"Are you seriously saying that?"

"I'm seriously asking. Your girly ass would know. And I'd still fuck her."

"I didn't need to know that."

"You wanted to."

"No. I really could have lived not knowing that."

"She wants me too."

"If it helps you sleep at night."

"I'm serious! You seen the way she looks at me?"

"Like you're an idiot."

"No. Like she wants me." Dean smirked, playing around with his brother as the road to Florida grew shorter.


	25. To the Gingerbread House

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thank you all who have continued to read this story; I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! And then it's a quick passing chapter...however, I have the next chapter written already so give it a day or two. I want to thank all who have added this story to their alerts and favorites during this time. Your reading is greatly appreciated, as is any feedback. Enjoy! Apologies for the formatting.

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Chapter Twenty Five

She saw them. In her rearview mirror, when she paid close attention, she saw them laughing, joking around, talking. She smiled despite herself. She wanted to stay with them. She was finally finding a place where her presence wasn't necessarily just tolerated, but perhaps desired. But she had a job to do. That was it. This was the life she chose. It was too late to turn back. She had to find John Winchester.

* * *

"So this is it huh?" Sam mused as the trio sat in a diner in the midlands of Florida, halfway between orange groves and beaches, nestled in the community of the living and dying.

He looked at the early bird special menu. Across from him was Jonquil, looking down at papers that he knew she wasn't reading. She was thinking. Most likely about the person sitting beside him. Dean. Who was staring into the menu, but not reading it at all.

"I can't decide what won't send me to the bathroom faster. The prune marmalade spread," Dean said with a grimace. "Or the Healthy Track Bio Starter. Whatever the hell that means."

"I'm sure you can order regular Dean. It's a diner, not a cafeteria for the elderly." Jonquil muttered.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dean's eyes motioned at the "early birds" who started making their way to the counter. Some other elderly couples and friends made their way to the surrounding booths.

The three hunters loomed over the breakfast menu until a shadow hovered over them.

"We're not ready yet," Dean mumbled without looking up. The shadow cleared its throat.

"To get up and leave or get your backside handed to ya boy?"

The three hunters' heads shot up in surprise. At the edge of table was an old man in a cream colored golf polo and Kangol hat with his arms folded across his chest. His white mustache twitched and his dark brown eyes glinted. Behind him with wispy white hair and thin wire framed glasses was an older man. Beside him was a burly weather worn man with a long white beard.

Jonnie scoffed at Dean and Sam smirked. Dean spoke.

"I don't see your name on it gramps."

"Don't be a smart alec," the gruff burly man spoke.

"You too Captain Ahab. Don't see your name on it either."

"Dean, respect your elders."

The mustached ring leader narrowed his eyes at Jonquil. "Who says I'm elderly, doll?"

Jonquil turned her eyes away, looking awkwardly at Sam.

"Let's just go." Sam stood, Jonquil followed suite, picking up her papers. Dean remained seated glaring at the old man.

"Why don't you go with your friends, we're gonna miss the early bird special. That new Bio menu is great!" The wire framed man said.

Dean's eyes glanced between the three elderly men, and a shudder of realization coursed through him. Would he be like these old men? He stood up. The old men and Dean held their glares at each other until the hunters had found a different booth.

"Man, I hate old people." Dean muttered as they ate breakfast in a different diner.

"You're gonna be old one day too." Sam spoke as he bit into his food.

"I guess I should let you know the old peoples' home is where we're heading next." Jonquil said before she took a bite of her pancake.

"What? What's the last sin left over?" Dean frowned.

"Sloth. At Lorey Lake Retirement Community."Jonquil glanced quickly from Dean, trying to avoid his glare.

"Are you serious? A whole damn city full of the aging?"

"They're not that bad Dean. Old people are great for the most part. You know, they've lived their lives, some are just beginning…Some of the people are sad because there's no one visiting them."

Jonquil looked up at Dean hopefully. He tried to frown. "Yeah, well…They smell funny. Like funeral homes."

"You've been through worse, I'm sure."

Dean glanced at Sam, who was in mid pancake, and only shrugged.

They continued to eat. Jonquil glanced warily at them. She didn't want this to be over.

"They're hiring. I already filled out our applications. We start tomorrow."

"They don't really run background checks do they?" Sam said.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Twice.

"Mr. Vadalokos? It's time for afternoon Tai Chi."

A staff of Lorey Lake stood in front of George Vadalokos' room. It had been strange, thought Jeffrey, the staffer, as he waited for Mr. Vadalokos' response. He usually was up and ready; very active. These last few days however, he had declined in activity. They took him to the doctor, but she could not find anything odd. If anything, it was age catching up on him.

Jeffrey decided he would come back later.

In the next few hours, behind that door, George Vadalokos rotted away, a very literal rotting away. His innards not responding and his movement slow. He couldn't do anything. He watched himself die, aware that it was not him. He knew. But no one would know that, no one would know he was dead until tomorrow morning. They would find his strangely fast decomposed body slouching on his chair, in front of a shopping network television show, the room layers of mess.


	26. And Then There Was One

Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.

A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Okay! Update in about...3 days? Good timing, aye? So we're getting closer to the edge, thanks all who have read, all the new (and previous) alerts and favorites :] Any feedback is appreciated! Here it is!

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Chapter Twenty Six

"Collin, you will fix the beds, clean the rooms, assorted custodial work. Valerie you will bathe the patients, tend to their comfort, accompany them to the nurse. And you Jason, you are in charge of bringing the patients to the game rec room. You will spend time with the patients, have some fun with them. They need the cheering up. So many staffers and residents have been dying lately."

The three hunters took their scrubs from the director of the Lorey Lake Retirement Community.

Sam and Dean gave Jonquil dubious looks. She shrugged. They all smiled sympathetically at the director when she looked back up at them.

"Do you have any idea what was causing these deaths?" Sam asked.

"Well Collin, I'm not sure. The doctors on staff can't find any reason. The coroner says it was just natural causes for the most part. The elderly couldn't retain enough water, couldn't digest, everything inside was slowing down."

"And for the staff?" Dean asked.

"Oddly enough, they were also from natural causes, although a fair amount of the staff was fairly young, not much older than you three. But don't worry!" the woman quickly added, "You three will be fine, I'm sure of it. The rest of the deaths have mainly been the patients. Not that that's a good thing, but you can be sure you'll be fine."

"Don't worry about us; we just want to make sure the residents are up and early enough to catch their breakfast specials."

Sam jabbed Dean in the ribs, who gave the director a toothy smile.

"Actually Jason, I'm going to ask you to be in charge of that too since Dave, the staffer who usually does that is out sick."

Dean's smile didn't falter, if anything it became almost painful to watch. The director looked at him strangely.

"Well, the changing rooms are down the hall to your left. You can report to Marge's desk out here to get your clipboards and schedules for the day. Thank you!"

"Thank you for hiring us on such short notice," Jonquil said smiling.

The three hunters watched the director walk down the long white hall. The brothers turned to Jonquil only to find she was already making her way toward the changing rooms.

"Hey! Hey!" Sam called out to her. The Winchesters rushed behind her. She slammed the changing room door in their faces.

Dean looked at Sam. "I can't believe I've got the shittiest job out of all of us."

"Dean, shittiest job, really? I have the actual shitty job. You know, the one involved in cleaning whatever mess these people left around. Bed pans maybe…"

"You two need to stop complaining. At least you'll be helping out. No one ever really wants to skip the line to grow old. So stop complaining."

Jonnie opened the door and stepped out of the changing room. Dean whistled.

"Those are some ugly ass scrubs Jonnie. You'd look better without them."

He grinned at her, she gave him a flat look and Sam rolled his eyes.

"You guys really suck, you know that?" Dean slammed the changing room door behind him.

The hunters had spent nearly a week in the residence without any signs. Each was ever vigilant, but things seemed to move slowly. There was no drastic change; all of the patients' behaviors seemed normal according to each person's disposition and condition.

"I think this place was a bust." Sam noted to Dean as they headed toward the rec room. Dean glanced at his brother in agreement.

"Maybe. No one's died yet or anything. "

"Do you think…" Sam started.

"Do I think what?"

"That maybe"—

"Hey, you! Smart Alec! Come over here!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "What do you want Gramps?"

Sam laughed at Dean and headed out the door when he bumped into Jonquil. She had a worried look on her face and was caught off guard.

"Oh! Hey, didn't see you there."

"What's the matter Jonnie? I haven't seen you all day. And…well I kind of wanted to talk to you."

She looked up at him. "There's nothing going on….But I'm sure this is the place…I'm sure. Just give me some time…."

Sam frowned at Jonnie; she seemed out of sorts.

Dean made his way to Gramps and his Gang grudgingly. He had to admit, the old man was fairly badass, for a guy in a retirement home. He pushed the fear and thought that one day he would be this old.

"What's up Wires, Captain Ahab? Gramps?"

"That's Mister T.J. Waverly to you boy. I need you to get me something."

"What? Bingo cards? You know that's not 'til Saturday."

"Shut yer trap boy," Captain Ahab said, not looking up from his paper.

"I need you to get me a number." T.J. took a sip of his coffee.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Dean smirked, interested in seeing who it was.

"That little girlfriend of yours. Valerie's her name isn't it?" T.J. looked up with a mean grin.

Dean frowned, half in jest, smiling. "Easy there Gramps, she's not my girlfriend and isn't she too young for you?"

"Sure that's not the jealousy talking? Because boy, you sure look at her like that's what you want. But since she's nothing to you, her number eh?"

Dean smirked and patted the old man on the back. "All right. I'll get for you Gramps, but she ain't easy."

"And you're not as good looking or smooth as you think boy," Captain Ahab interjected once more. Wires had a quick laugh.

"Ah ha ha ha. Keep it up and I won't bring you your magazines Ahab." Dean said. The two other old men laughed as Dean walked away.

Thomas Jonathan Walker relaxed into his chair by the window, watching the sun setting, the bright reds and pinks blending into a dream.

There was a knock on the door.

"Mr. Waverly? It's Susan. I've have your evening medication."

"Come in," he responded.

The door opened and the blonde kind eyed nurse walked into the room. She smiled at T.J. Waverly, gave him his pills. She waited as he finished. He handed her the small cup and smiled at her.

"All gone."

"Good to know Mr. Waverly." She smiled at him once more. He felt something was off.

Footsteps at the open door and a knock made the nurse turn to the entrance of the room. T.J peered behind the nurse. Reclined against the doorpost was Jason, he had a slip of paper in his hand. He grinned at the nurse, then at T.J.

"Well, Jason, you're too late! Mr. Waverly took his medication already."

"That's fine Susan. I just wanted to speak to him."

"Well, come on in kid. Susan, I don't mean to be rude…" T.J. began.

The blonde cheery nurse turned back to T.J. and gave him a saccharine smile. "Don't worry about it Mr. Waverly, there's still some more patients I need to see."

Susan smiled at Dean, who smiled back and watched her walk out. Out the hallway. He shut the door behind her.

"Eyes in your head, boy. No wonder Valerie's not your girl," T.J. said with a knowing look in his eye.

"Well, if she were my girl, I wouldn't be able to give you her number now would I Gramps?" Dean smiled holding out the paper to the old man.

T.J. gave Dean a saucy smile as he took the number. He fixed his moustache and said, "I've still got it."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, you've got it."

Dean looked around the old man's room. "So Gramps, you've been here a while I'm guessing…"

"About seven years now, why?" The old man was looking for the phone.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. You've noticed anything strange lately? People dying?"

T.J. gave Dean a flat look. "In case you didn't realize it boy, you're working in a retirement home. They don't run background checks here anymore do they?"

Dean smirked "You're telling me…"

T.J. sighed and looked up at Dean. "All right. Lately there's been more than the daily quota. Maybe two or three people die here a year. But for the most part, everyone here's healthy. We've all got some problems, we're not your age anymore, but we're in good shape as a whole. But…"

T.J. fell silent and looked away. He sighed. Dean took a seat in one of the chairs by the bed.

"But what?"

"Lately, some of the healthiest people have been dying. Just two days before you and your friends showed up, Gregory, a nice old Greek man, hell, man's younger than me; always active, doing Tai Chi, dancing on Saturday nights, all that, he just up and died. Well, he was fine last week, then he was gone for about three or four days. Well, came out only when he had to, barely. The doctors checked him, said he was fine…Then he died. That was it. He's not the only one, but he's been the latest. That was about a week ago. I'm telling you. It's about every two weeks now someone dies.

"Well, let's not talk about that anymore. I'm gonna show you how it's done."

"How what's done?"

"Getting a girl baby face."

"Are you trying to school me old man?"

"Watch and learn."

T.J. grinned at Dean and fixed his shirt. He cleared his throat and picked up the phone. He motioned for Dean to wait as it rang.

"Hello Valerie…its T.J. Waverly, Room 314. Yes," T.J. grinned and nodded at Dean. "I was hoping to continue the conversation we started yesterday over dancing and drinks tomorrow night? I'll pick you up at eight then, you lovely island flower. Good night."

Dean crossed his arms and leaned back into the chair with an impressed look on his face.

T.J. hung up the phone. "And that's how it's done. Now get out of my room you wise ass."

Dean smirked "Don't displace your hip tomorrow night."

"I've got hips of steel. Let her know." T.J. winked.

"Aww come on, that was too much!" Dean said as he closed the door behind him.

There was a knock on Jonquil's door. She opened the door to her Retirement Home given lodging. She and the other two hunters were given the lodging of some former employees. There stood Sam and Dean. Dean shut the door behind him.

"So…has anyone found anything out? I haven't been able to find anything! I'm at a standstill."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about earlier…" Sam began. Dean cut him off.

"First things first: since when do you go out dancing with Grandfather Time?"

"What? I don't think it's relevant right now Dean." Jonquil said looking him in the eyes. Sam looked confused.

"Am I missing something here?"

"No. What else Dean?" She crossed her arms.

"Well, while I was talking to your little boyfriend, I found out who died last…"

"Gregory Vadalokos. We know that."

"And we also know that all the former patients that had died were fairly active and healthy," Sam added.

"Did you know it was every two weeks? The guys just came down with something for about five days and then died."

"So….what? Wait another week for someone to die?" Sam was getting frustrated.

"Maybe…maybe we should start by checking out the healthiest "—Sam cut Jonquil off.

"We already know the healthiest and most active patients here."

"Well, this thing can't just be floating out in the ether can it? It's gotta be somewhere…."

Jonquil looked at Dean for a moment. "Are you saying that Sloth rests in a host before it attacks?"

"What? No…I've never heard of anything like that before…"

"Well, as far as we know right now, it seems like a good lead. You've got the names of the most active patients?" Sam asked Jonnie.

Jonquil went to the night stand and pulled out some files and notes.

"Well… I have down Milton Shaw, Amy Van Bussan, Yvonne Do Sausa, Sita Ramya, and Thomas Jonathan Waverly…"

The hunters looked at each other.

"Okay," Sam started. "We need to get on lock with these patients. Keep an eye on them…and if we're going to try out that host theory…we need to figure out who is the host…"

"So eyes on whoever is always around…" Dean finished.

"Okay...Well, tomorrow night I'm going out with Thomas Jonathan"—

"Whoa what?" Sam looked at Jonnie with a strange smile. "You're going out with a patient?"

"Well, yeah…It's just dancing at the place about four miles down the road. He's a really nice old guy. He showed me the pictures of him and his three wives, well he was divorced twice, kept the last girl, Nellie, until she died. Very pretty. And he was a looker in his days too."

Sam laughed and shook his head, not believing it. Dean put quick forced smile "Alright alright I'll keep an eye on him in the morning."

"Jealous are we?" Sam chided his brother.

"Shut up Sam. And I'm not jealous."

Jonnie grinned at him. "Has he told you about his hips of steel?"

"Aww come on you too? What the hell is this?" Dean groaned. Sam and Jonquil burst out laughing.

The hunters continued to laugh and make a plan for the next day.

Outside of those living quarters, in the second section of the building, on the third floor, were the patient rooms. Outside of these rooms was the nurses' desk in front of the elevator. Behind the desk, under the only light in the silent hallway was a blonde brown eyed nurse. Her lips were pursed although her pose was relaxed. Her eyes were too dark to be brown. They flashed black as she stood. The lights that were off started to flicker as Susan made her way past closed doors, some totally dark, others with the faint light of a television set. She stood before the room of Thomas Jonathan Waverly. She turned the door knob and entered the dark room where the old man slept.


	27. Die Walkure, Prelude

It all happened so fast. The last four hours were a complete blur to Jonnie and the Winchesters.

Jonquil grabbed on to Dean's arm to help maintain her balance. He pulled her forward.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked. His troubled eyes appeared out of the darkness.

"She'll be fine," Dean said, sure of himself. He glanced back at Jonquil, and questioned his certainty.

Jonnie remained silent as they reached the Impala. Sam opened the back seat door for her. Dean gently helped Jonnie to her seat. Her eyes were already closed, but she frowned as she accommodated herself. She mumbled something the boys could barely understand.

"The Cradle, where is it...?," she managed to push out. The engine began to hum. The smooth leather of the Impala's back seat and the ever faint purr of the engine lulled Jonnie to sleep before she could say anything more.

* * *

"Come on Sammy, where the hell are you?" Dean muttered to himself, glancing between the hallway and the clock over the doorway. It had only been five minutes past the meeting time, but something was making Dean feel uneasy.

"Waiting for someone?," a sultry voice spoke from behind Dean. He turned around with a startled expression on his face. It quickly changed into a smirk. He whistled.

"Didn't know you were so easy on the eyes, Jonnie." He gave her an appreciative glance.

Her smile quickly faded into a frown as she fixed her black cocktail dress. It had been a gift from her sister's girlfriend, well intentioned, but too form fitting for Jonnie's taste. She could feel her face heating up and her pulse quickening as Dean's gaze lingered on her. When she looked up at him, his eyes were staring right into hers. She felt uneasy. Her stomach grew tight. She cleared her throat.

"So...are you waiting for someone or not? Where's Sam?"

Dean's entranced gaze returned to reality. He shrugged. "I don't know, I've been waiting for five minutes already."

"Valerie!," a voice called from the end of the hallway.

"Oh God...really Jonnie?...,"Dean suppressed his laughter and disbelief as he watched TJ Waverly approach the dashing young woman beside him. "I bet he wore real underwear tonight."

Jonnie ribbed Dean as she spoke. "Shut up Dean. He asked me to dance, which to be honest, is more than you'll ever do with me..."

And with that, she walked toward TJ, leaving Dean with his words in his mouth and his eyes trailing after her. As she walked out of the retirement home with the old man, Dean wondered if that was true. Standing there alone, Dean knew she was right. But he wished she wasn't. And that, for him, as not an admittance of feelings, just an admittance of desire. Anything else was too much for the time being.

"Where's Sam damn it..." Dean began to walk down the hall, remembering he had been waiting for his brother, not the young hunter he found himself thinking about more than he liked to admit.

* * *

The lights were flashing and the music was blaring. Young people's bodies thrashed and swayed around Jonnie and TJ like a sea.

"I really wasn't expecting this kind of dance party..." Jonnie said, leaning into TJ's ear.

"What?"

"I really wasn't expecting"-

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

The throbbing base incited a pulsation of bodies everywhere. Sweat glazed the faces of the young and older dancers, glitter shimmered on the eyes of some girls, colors and skin abounded. Strobe lights and disco flares ignited the scene.

And then, he was gone. Jonnie had only blinked and the old man was gone. The people and music around her faded into the background. They were just a faint fuzz in her peripheral vision. Her eyes attempted to adjust every time a strobe light flashed. She couldn't see him.

A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the sea of people. She couldn't see who was pulling her, nor could she see where she was going. She pulled back and yanked her arm to herself, dragging along her guide. Her eyes opened wide in shock.

Jonnie could see the blackness in the eyes of the old man. He had her locked.

"Hello Jonnie. I've been waiting a long time to see you...But as you can imagine, I'm a patient man. But my daddy, oh no. He's not patient at all. And if I'm not mistaken, you've got until midnight before he comes around to pay you a visit. And let me tell you, he's been itchin' to see you. It will be a nice family reunion, I think. You've got my brothers and sisters, right?...Well, it's a shame about TJ, he was a rather nice fellow. But you...I think we'll have ourselves a nice long sit-down, and that won't be a shame at all, now will it? And don't you dare try to stop me, or I'll kill everyone in this night-hall..."

And slowly, in the middle of the dance floor, the old man began to cripple before Jonnie's feet. She whispered the rite of exorcism holding onto TJ's hands, her eyes filling with tears as she could see the man inside die. And as she spoke the words to expel the demon from TJ's body, his heart slowed. She could feel his pulse stop.

The strobe lights flashed and the music grew louder. In that darkened interval, no one would see and no one would hear the screams as Sloth left the old man for the young woman in black.

The young woman with a black dress and black eyes weaved her way through the throngs of people. In the darkness no one saw her.


	28. Ritt dur Walkuren

A/N: Dear readers, hello stumblers, this is it. Thank you all so much for the favorites, alerts, and for those who have reviewed, your support of the story. It's been a long time coming, and I hope you all enjoy it. Don't forget, there will be an epilogue. I hope you've all enjoyed Jonnie. Let me know what you guys have thought of it!

* * *

"She's up..."

There was a voice somewhere in the distance and blinding white lights flittering in through her eyelashes. But there was something more overwhelming Jonquil Salas, as she lay in that hospital bed. The story of what had happened before.

They would say that the men arrived in a black chariot, blacker than the night itself. That there was fire in their eyes and no mercy. And as these two men strode through the dance floor, the people did not tremble to the incessant beats that pulsed through the speakers; nay, they shook and made way for the Brothers Winchester.

* * *

_3 hours ago..._

It felt as though he was being spun around, inside of a top, twisting away. He was nauseated and dizzy. And apparently blind?

Sam Winchester could not move his hands and feet, he could not see, but he could taste the staleness of the cloth that was tied around his mouth. He had been hog tied and gagged, somewhere in the Lorey Lake Retirement Home. Sam tried moving the gag out of his mouth, but the rough cloth only cut against his face. There had to be a way out. He tried not to panic. But he was somewhere in the darkness alone, and no one knew where he was. He decided to rock whatever prison he was in; perhaps he could bust the doors open.

_One, two, three!_

Sam lunged his body left. Then right, then left again, then right. And he continued until he felt his prison swaying. And suddenly, before he could stop it, his prison toppled over. With him still inside it. And there was nothing to stop his head from hitting the metal doors of his prison. He cried out in pain, but no one would hear him.

He hoped someone, anyone would find him. Dean perhaps?

Dean who had been traversing the main building in search of his brother. After half an hour of impatient and fruitless searching, Dean stood in the main corridor. He frowned, worry evident in his face. Where was he? He looked up, and there was the answer to his prayers: the cameras. The cameras that observed every corridor on every floor in the building twenty four hours a day, every day. There would be no escape.

* * *

"You mean to tell me that hot blonde nurse locked you up, after handing your ass to you?" Dean shook his head, a smirk on his face as he drove towards the dance hall.

"She was possessed Dean! Then she possessed me...well it well..."Sam frowned. "She knocked me out cold actually..."

"For your sake. Shit Sammy, in the last seven weeks you've been ridden by demons more than I've fu"-

"I said she knocked me out." Sam interrupted his brother with a flat look.

"I'm just stating the facts."

"Yeah well...,"Sam mumbled something about Jonnie and Dean. Dean cocked a bow at his brother.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I said nothing."

As the night grew darker, the road longer. Dean sped down the dark and almost lightless road, not caring about the canals and scattered drivers that appeared out of the darkness, around the still bend of the road. He had to go save his girl. Friend. Comrade in arms? He had to go, and nothing would stop him; that increasingly louder pounding in his chest would not allow it.

* * *

Glitter, perfume, and smell of a sweaty crowd dancing on eachother barraged the boys upon their arrival. But they weren't deterred by the sounds from the speakers, the disco lights and strobe flashes. The attractive sirens glistening, their bodies traded for a song, pulling at Dean, pulling at Sam, could never pull them from their course.

It was loud, and they knew who they were looking for. Dean searched the sea of people for that hair, for those eyes, that dress, those lips. But he could not-

He saw her! Her eyes flashed at him, and she smirked at Dean, teasing him to follow her. Dean waved at Sam to follow him. They weaved through the dancing bodies seamlessly, following a mirage, for Jonquil was never where she seemed to appear. Dean kept walking faster trying to reach hold of her when he tripped.

"Dean..." Sam stared at the floor. Dean looked at what had caused him to trip. On the floor, naught but centimeters away, lay the crippled and huddled body of Thomas James Walker. Sam reached down for the old man.

"No pulse..."The brothers knew what this meant.

"We've got to get to Jonnie," Dean said, urgency in his tone.

"We can't just leave him here." Sam looked down at T.J.'s body then around at the crowd. Someone caught his eye. The young man screamed.

"MEDIC! SOMEONE CALL A MEDIC! DJ! SOMEONE CALL A MEDIC!"

The neighboring crowd's attention swayed from the music to the man on the dance floor. In the midst of the growing chaos, someone grabbed Dean by the arm. The strobe lights flashed, periodically and continually blinding Dean. He could not see who it was, but the grip was familiar to him. It was Jonnie.

Into the dark recesses of the dancehall they ventured. There were a few tables, most devoid of people. Jonnie dragged Dean into the farthest corner of the dancehall . Dean looked back to see if he could spot Sam, but he had lost him in the crowd.

"She's dying now, you know. I'm killing her slowly."

Jonquil stared into Dean's eyes. When the flash of the strobe lights went off, her eyes were black. The disco lights painted colors all over her, but Dean could only stare into her eyes, searching, looking for the Jonnie he knew was in there.

"You get out of her, you sonuvabitch."

Jonquil smirked and let out a dismissive laugh. "Well, I'm sure my mother was more of a whore than a bitch, but who you really should look out for is my father." She languidly reached over to the brightly colored drink on the table and began to sip on it.

Dean's angered gaze was burning into her. Jonquil looked up. She paused her drinking to speak.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you serious? Well, I'll tell you something Mr. Winchester. Your friend here doesn't have much time. I've an appointment with my dear father. Well, she does. We're having a bit of a family reunion. In about half an hour to be exact. I'd kill her myself, but I think my father would rather do away with her first. He does like young dark haired women. Perhaps he'll ride her around like a suit, and when he's done"-

Dean punched Jonquil's face. He couldn't stand hearing the words coming out of her mouth-he had forgotten she was still in there. His anger surged through him. Jonquil smirked at him, fixing her jaw.

"It's still your friend's body you know...hahaha," Jonquil began to laugh. And suddenly she froze.

"_Socordia_. _Ex Vitium vos errant pario, per Rectum vos es reus."_

Jonquil's head flew back as dark smoke tunneled out of her mouth and siphoned into the small glass vial in Sam's hand. He quickly closed the shaking vial and placed it inside the Cradle of Virtue. Jonnie collapsed to the floor. Sam and Dean rushed to pull her up. Sam spoke.

"We have to get her to the hospital."

"We have to figure something out. In about half an hour the father of all these bastards we've been hunting is coming for Jonnie."

"She made good on her promise."

"I don't trust demons. We trap him."

"How?"

* * *

"Are you sure she"-

"Just do it and stop asking questions." Dean crossed his arms against his chest and gave a mean eye to tattoo artist. His eye brows raised in anticipation and irritation. "Are you gonna do it or am I gonna have to do it for you?"

"Okay, okay..." The tattoo artist gave Dean and Sam a weary look and shrugged. He took the needle to Jonnie's back.

"Can you go a little faster? We've got fifteen minutes." Sam looked around the stall. It was covered with pictures of the artist's work, various tattoos, piercings, designs, some graffiti. The red neon light bathed the stall in a stagnant light.

"This takes about half an hour," the artist said, not pausing on his work.

"You have ten minutes."

* * *

"Jonnie...Jonnie, wake up. Wake up." Sam nudged Jonquil from the back seat. She didn't move.

Dean honked the horn. Again. And again. And again. Jonnie's face scrunched in pain. A moan of pain rose from the backseat. "Owwww...ughhhhh..."

"Hey, you okay Jonnie?" Concern was etched in Sam's face.

"No...,"she managed to say. "I feel... like I've been run over. Everything inside... it hurts so much... my back...someone stabbed me."

She coughed. She felt something on her hand. "Ah! Blood! I'm dying!"

She remained on the seat, tears about to flood from her eyes.

"Not tonight Jonnie. You've got a nasty sonuvabitch to fight. Pretty soon." Dean looked at her from the rearview mirror. She looked horrible. Like she was indeed dying.

He pulled up along a woody stretch of road. He stopped the car. He looked back a Sam, who only nodded, knowing exactly what he had to do.

In a few moments, they helped Jonnie out of the car, standing her against it. She could barely hold her self up, such was the pain that crippled her. She looked up at the boys.

"So this is it?" Physical pain could not veil the sadness that Jonnie had in her eyes.

"No. This is not it. You've got the sins right here." Sam said. Dean handed her the Cradle of Virtue. They stood in silence.

"Well, you guys should go, Vice likes to involve whoever he can into his demented games. You guys have enough problems as it is. Go. Thanks. For everything..."

"We're not leaving you here by yourself."

"Dean, please just go. I've caused you enough trouble"-

He cut her off with a kiss, a brief one, because Sam pulled him off of her, and shoved him into the driver's seat.

"We'll see you again Jonnie, don't worry," Sam said as he settled into the car. He gave her a hopeful glance, and then turned to his brother. "Let's go."

Dean looked at Jonnie, his heart beating fast, a tightness in his stomach. Anticipation, worry, fear and desire all building up in stomach.

"Dean, now!" Sam said. Dean turned away from Jonnie and drove down the dark empty road.

Jonnie waited by the side of the road. Her body was ailing like never before. Sloth had almost shut down her entire system. Her kidneys were failing, her liver. Blood was filling her lungs. Her muscles were atrophying. Everything was failing her.

And she had sent away the only people who were with her. She knew she should be nervous. No, she should be scared. But so much had happened. She had been possessed. Her body had belonged to something else for nearly three hours. And during this time, she had been dying slowly and painfully. Then after the exorcism, something had happened that left her entire back scalding, numb and tender at the same time. And now that kiss...that brief but searing kiss...

So here she was. On the side of road somewhere in the boondocks of Florida, at midnight. Alone. This is where the roads of Jonuil Salas' life led her. She sighed. She could have been starting her final year in college. Getting an internship somewhere. Maybe doing research anywhere else in the world. But no. Tonight she was to live, or she was going to die.

As Jonquil mulled in her final thoughts, a car pulled up along the road. It stopped in front of her. The passenger window rolled down. There was a man in the car. Balding. Late forties. Pale yellow shirt. Cheap checkered tie.

"Get in."

"Who are you?"

"It's Vice, little girl. Don't recognize me?" The man moved closer to the window. His eyes were black and he had a cruel crooked smile. It disappeared. "Now get in."

Jonquil opened the door and sat down. Vice began to drive.

"I have come back, as I promised. Do you have my children?"

The car sped down the road, and passed a black car that had been parked along the side of the road.

"Yes, I do."

Vice seemed surprised. "You have accomplished what your teacher couldn't. Surprising for such a weak foolish girl like yourself. Now give me my children."

"You must promise not to harm me or let any of your children harm me if I give them over to you."

Vice let out a demonic laugh as he grabbed the Cradle of Virtue from Jonnie's weak hands, searing his own hands in the process. He screamed, dropping the box.

"Go to hell Vice, and take your children with you," Jonnie spat out at Vice. "I mean that quite literally."

He yelled at her. She began to recite the rite of exorcism. As she did that, car swerved and nearly hit the guardrails. The black smoke that was Vice tunneled out of the man's mouth, and in her pause, funneled itself into Jonnie's mouth. The car swerved violently through the metal borders along the road and into the trees.

Glass flew; shards cutting into the man's chest and head, pieces of glass pierced into Jonnie's shoulder and across her face. The airbags deployed, pushing the passengers back into their seats; the whiplash was strong. But there was something stronger going on in Jonnie.

A compartmentalization had occurred. Something neither of them had foreseen. For behold! Dean Winchester was a quick and clever man, and as such, Jonquil Salas now had a complete Devil's Trap tattooed on her back.

And now Vice was locked. He could not escape Jonnie's body, nor could he fully possess it. But Jonnie was weak from Sloth's possession.

A black car pulled up by the crashed car. Two men rushed out of the car to see if there were any survivors, to look for a particular face.

"Jonnie, exorcise it! Exorcise it!," Dean yelled at her, trying to pry the smashed door open.

There was a battle inside of Jonquil Salas. She could feel the strength of the demon, but she could feel him locked, chained, trap, and his movements to attempt to escape. He growled from within her, a horrible sound. But Jonnie felt weak, her _anima_ was nearly drained. She wasn't sure she could even speak. But her spirit must.

Dean continued to pull on the door, but it was jammed. Sam came from behind him with a crowbar from their trunk. He smashed the window and began to pry the door open.

The Winchesters pulled Jonnie's frozen body out of the car. She was still, paralyzed. Her eyes were wide open but she was missing. Bright red ribbons trailed across her face as the blood streamed down her head. Her right shoulder was soaked in blood. Dean pulled the shard of glass from her shoulder.

The boys kept her still on the ground.

"Start the rite," Dean said to his brother as he kept his eyes on Jonquil's.

Jonquil's mouth opened, and racing out and straight into the ground went the black smoke. And then it was gone. Completely. Right back to hell.

Jonquil's eyes closed and her head turned to the side. She went completely limp.

"Dean, she's got to go to a hospital."

Dean glanced up at Sam as he picked up Jonnie' body. He began walking toward the Impala.

"Open the door."

In moments they were off. No one on that road had ever seen such speed, but in less than an hour, the boys had reached the Emergency Room. They busted through the doors, Dean carrying the near lifeless body of the hunter.

"We need to see a doctor now," Sam said to the triage nurse, who hadn't looked up.

"You're going to have to wait. Take these forms and fill them out. Have a seat in the waiting room."

Dean's shadow soon loomed over the nurse's desk. She looked up with an irritated look on her face. "She's dying."

The nurse's face changed when she saw the young woman in the young man's arms.

"I'm going to need a bed stat," the nurse spoke into an intercom on her desk. "What happened to her?"

"She was in a car accident. She might also have kidney and liver failure."

The nurse didn't question Sam. "Press that button by the door and walk in. There should be someone with a bed."

The Winchesters did not wait.

* * *

_Presently..._

"Hey..."

Jonnie turned to the sound of Sam's voice. There was a warm welcoming smile on his face. Her eyes wandered around the hospital room. Light flooded in from her left. The window's blinds were open and sunlight filled the room. She looked around. The nurse fixed her IV and took her vitals.

"Where's Dean?" Her first words. She sat up and felt the pain that the morphine and her deep sleep had taken away. Her body ached, but it was much less than the pain of what she had felt before.

"He's getting us breakfast. Well, he should get you some breakfast too."

"Don't worry about that Mr. Mendel, I'll phone the cafeteria," the nurse said as she finished taking Jonnie's vitals. "I'll need you to step out now. Mrs. Mendel, I'm going to give you your bath now and change your gowns and dressings, okay?"

Jonquil only nodded, completely bewildered. The nurse drew the curtain as Sam walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

As the nurse began to undress Jonnie, she spoke. "You know, your husband and brother-in-law have been here watching you for a long time. It's nice to see when family cares for you. You've been in a coma for about two weeks."

"What?! Two weeks?" Jonnie's heart rate went up, as the machine hooked up to her arm indicated. The nurse smiled at her.

"Don't worry, relax." The nurse's eyes turned black. Jonquil's eye's widened, and she couldn't have managed to scream louder.

The nurse slapped her. "OH shut up. Look, I'm here on behalf of Vice. He wants his kids back."

Jonnie, now half naked, grabbed onto her covers, spoke; the slap by the possessed nurse shook her senses back into her.

"You tell Vice, if he wants his kids, he better leave me and my friends alone. I don't want anything to do with him. He gets his kids, he leaves me the hell alone. You got that? Tell that piece of shit I'm gonna bury his degenerate spawn in a field and if he doesn't come for them, too fucking bad. He tried to double cross me, and that just doesn't fly with me. I filled my end of the bargain. I got his kids."

"Well he wants them now, or, I could just take you down myself..." The nurse gave her a twisted smile.

Jonnie punched the nurse in the face, and winced in pain, as she ripped out the needles in her arm and hands. Pain radiated through her body, but she didn't care. She stood up, prepared to fight the nurse.

"Tell him what I said. If he wants them back, I want his word. Leave me and friends alone. They'll be buried in a field. _Exorciamus te, omnis immundis..."_

As soon as Jonnie finished the rite, the nurse collapsed to the floor. Jonnie quickly got up, despite her pain, and dragged the nurse onto the bed, with much effort.

She looked around; there was only hospital gowns available. Jonnie turned back to the unconscious nurse. She was going to have to take her scrubs.

After changing and brushing her teeth, Jonnie quietly opened the door to the room. In her hands, she had whatever belongings the Winchesters had left in her looked down the corridor. The hallway was empty, save a nurse or two and a doctor doing rounds. She walked past them, hoping no one would notice her. She continued down her path, past the nurses' station and past the commone room. She made it to the doors that signaled the entrance to the ward she was in. Beyond those doors were the elevators. She opened the doors.

There were four elevators, and one of them rang. The elevator by the corner. The doors opened. There stodd the Winchesters, about to step out, when Jonnie walked in, and pushed them back in.

The elevator closed. She hit lobby, and turned around to the bewildered men.

"Jonnie, what are you doing up?"

"Do you still have the Cradle of Virtue?"

The doors to the elevator opened. She turned to Dean. "Take me to your car. We have some sins to bury."

The three hunters walked out of the hospital and into the parking lot.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Where ever there are fields."

The doors of the black Impala slammed shut and into the endless Florida sun the three hunters rode.

_THE END...FOR NOW_


	29. Epilogue

Dean Winchester watched the long brown hair of the young hunter catch the wind. Her back was to him, and she was too far off for him to catch her scent. He watched as she stood on her toes to wrap her arms cross his tall broad brother. He could see him smiling and saying something to her. She nodded and shoved his shoulder.

His eyes rested on her, and she turned around and caught his gaze. He did not move his eyes from the ever approaching hunter. The wind continued to breathe, and her hair continued to move. Soon her almond brown eyes and her rosy lips were before him. There was a fight in her; he could see it in her face. Her lips tried to smirk, and her eyes tried to hold back emotion, but he saw right through it.

She stood before him, avoiding his eyes, she spoke. She said that it was time. She said she had made him and his brother a promise, and she would not go back on her word.

He knew. She looked him in the eyes.

"Well, this is it then. Thanks."

There was more in her eyes than her words let on. She just stared at him. And inside, he felt something tremble ever so lightly. He felt it.

"Try not to get your ass killed." He let a small grin fall on his lips.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he saw there was not anger in them, but a searching.

"I won't," she said softly.

He noticed all the small things about her, the way her chest moved as she sighed, the way her hair fell down her shoulders, and the look she gave him when she opened her eyes and stared into his.

Dean said nothing, though his lips parted as if he were going to speak. There were no words to say. He might miss her. He might wish she could stay a little longer. He might hope that she could find his father.

But no words came to him. He set his lips straight. He glanced over her and saw his brother leaning against the Impala. He watched Sam turn around and rest his arms over the hood of the black car.

"You should get"—

Dean was cut short. His eyes were on her the entire time, yet Jonquil's lips caught him without warning. He did not see it coming. But he did not stop her. He didn't want to stop her.

In that moment, he let all he had been suffocating breathe; his arms found their way around her body, his hands pulling her closer. Her hands held his face, his neck, his chest... Maybe he would never see her again. It wouldn't be new. He was not in love with her. But what was there was something calm in the middle of the chaos. And so he held her, and he held what could have and might have been.

They parted from each other. The looked away from each other. Jonnie cleared her throat, lips and cheeks flushed; Dean trembled inside. She spoke.

"I'll call you when I find him."

Dean kept the scoff to himself. "Yea."

They looked at each other and nodded, knowing this might very well be goodbye. The hunters made their ways to their cars, each heading to the opposite side of the road.

As Dean got in his car, he watched the green pickup start up. He shut the door to his own car and started the engine.

She drove first, and as she passed by their car, the Winchesters heard the faint whisper of a raggedy blue tune and caught the yellow of the tie around the rear view mirror.

The young hunter did not wave at the boys she had spent her time with; she did not look their way. She knew it was time to go. It always was.

* * *

Jonquil had driven for miles; nearly a month and a half has passed since she left the Winchesters and returned to Bobby Singer's house. She explained what had happened with the Cradle of Virtue and informed him of her next task. His words to her:

"What kinda death wish you got goin' for yourself? You wanna kill yourself right this time then, eh? Well don't count on me bailing your ass out."

He then proceeded to tell her that John Winchester was probably "after demon tail" so that she should look for that. She left soon there after.

_A few weeks later..._

Jonnie pulled up to the Sweets Motel parking lot. It was a hot day and it had been a long night. She had blood, sweat, dirt and other unidentifiable substances on her clothes. As she walked up to her motel room and fished for her keys in her pocket, A man came out from the room next to hers. He was a tall good looking man, imposing, dark hair, worn face, older...

He looked both ways, as if someone was following. He looked slightly startled when he saw Jonquil. Startled was perhaps, an exaggeration.

"Long night?" He smirked at her.

Her expression was puzzled, and before she could speak, the man walked towards his car, a big black truck.

"Wait! Wait!," she called out to the man. He stopped and looked back. "Wanna go out for dinner tonight?"

He smiled ruefully and shook his head. "Won't be in tonight sweetheart."

"Breakfast?"

He smiled, and got into his truck.

"Lunch? Come on!"

He started the engine. She knew who he was. That smirk, she had seen too many times before to mistake it. She ran up to his truck and pulled herself up to his window. He gave her a warning look.

"Now listen,"-

"You let me in your car and I'll listen, _Mr. Winchester_. I've come a long way to find you."

"And who are you?"

"Jonquil Salas. All the way from Jersey. I promised your boys I'd find you. Now are you going to let me in or what?"

* * *

"I wanna know what love issss DUN DUN DUN I know you can show meeeEEEEEEeee..."

The shower was running and the door of the bathroom was closed. On the table, Sam sat looking things up online.

"SHUT UP DEAN!"

His cry was in vain. Sam rolled his eyes and put on headphones.

On Dean's bed lay his phone. Its buzzing no one heard.

* * *

_"Hey Dean, it's Jonnie. I hope you get this message in time. I ran into your father. He'll be heading out to Jefferson City out on a hunt. I'm not supposed to tell you this. But I made a promise...He misses you guys. He's real proud of the both of you. You should see the look in his eyes when he talks about you both. Good luck Dean. I hope we can meet again. I think I miss you."_

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N:** Dearest readers and stumblers! We have reached a tentative end to this story. But I get the feeling that there may be a reunion of sorts in the future...Any how, hope you've all enjoyed Jonnie and this story! Feel free to leave any thoughts :] Muchas gracias y buenas noches !


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